


Crosshairs and Primary Feathers

by Gracefully



Series: Here There Be Angels [2]
Category: Band of Brothers, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, Demonic Possession, Gen, Ghosts, Hellhounds, Hunter!Bill, Hunter!Joe, M/M, Major Character Injury, Past Abuse, Supernatural Elements, angel!eugene, angel!winters, asexual!eugene, hunter!Luz, hunter!babe, hunter!nixon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-28 05:04:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10073156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gracefully/pseuds/Gracefully
Summary: In a world where angels and monsters are real, Babe Heffron and Bill Guarnere hunt monsters in their deep blue 1970 Dodge Charger. Oh, and Eugene tags along too.





	1. Evangeline/Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> This will make slightly more sense if you read Bullet Holes and Rosaries (the first part of the series about how Nixon and Dick meet) first.  
> Basically, angels fell a long time ago but got to keep their wings. Their Graces have diminished over time, so all they can do is heal and harm and sometimes use their bodies as vessels (you'll see, you'll see). Angels have all the same rights as humans, but are still prejudiced against and sometimes seen as second-class citizens.

Babe was fucked and he knew it. He clenched the flashlight in his jaw, felt the rocks dig into his stomach and thighs and arms and chest. Babe huffed a short breath, cussed lightly, and kept crawling. The gun in the waistband of his jeans had maybe three bullets in it. Babe’s knife was somewhere back on the surface. His flashlight was dim already, and the cave only went deeper and deeper. He’d been without daylight for a while, and the air grew colder and more stale as he crawled. Bill was back by the car, woozy and barely able to fend for himself. Babe would have found the situation almost funny, if it wasn't so terrifyingly bleak.

Babe crawled forward and suddenly the tiny shaft he was moving through opened up, became a larger area. It was tall enough now to almost stand up in, but Babe knew better, and kept crawling. As Babe moved forward, he noticed the ground had a tilt, that was just enough to let him know that he was descending. He crawled for who knows how long, watching his flashlight get dimmer as panic started to mount in his chest. _It can’t be much farther,_ he reassured himself.

Babe rounded a corner and the floor leveled out, opened out into a cavern. It was large enough that Babe could hear the sounds of his breath echoing, but small enough that his flashlight beam easily reached across it. Scrambling into a sitting position, Babe pulled his shotgun out of the back of his pants, crossing his wrists and scanning the cave. It was mainly filled with junk; scraps of wood, a bedroll, some cans. There was another opening towards the back, either heading deeper into the system or opening up to the surface. Babe’s flashlight caught on feathers. Large ones. He held his breath, saw a leg sticking out from behind an old chair. And were those--wings?

That was when Babe heard the deep growl and ice ran through his veins. He swung his light around, finger already on the trigger, when the glowing red eyes caught his gaze. Babe swallowed as they blinked.

There was a snarl and the eyes were mobile, two torches thrown at Babe. A second before the beast hit him, Babe fired once. The beast only snarled and crashed into Babe’s chest, sharp claws trying to tear through his jacket. Babe flew back, flashlight leaving his hand, as the beast hit him square in the chest. The air was knocked out of his body and he was left heaving on the ground, the beast’s red eyes boring two holes in Babe’s own. He could feel the heat of its slavering jaws as it lowered its massive head over Babe. Babe tried to push it away, but the thing was strong and determined. Babe gave a shove and tried to shoot again, knowing he was low on ammo. The thing whined, before the glowing eyes were back on Babe, with a force unlike before. The beast snarled again and Babe fired at what he thought was its head. The gun only clicked, bullet-less and to Babe, useless. “Fuckfuckfuck,” he said in a low voice as he kicked towards the beast’s stomach. His foot connected and the beast lunged for Babe’s head.

Babe screamed as the thing chomped down towards his neck. He twisted at the last second and the thing latched onto his shoulder, hard. Babe felt the sting of its bite through his jacket as its teeth broke skin. Babe kicked and punched, wishing to God he had his knife with him. The pair of red eyes hovered above him, far too close for Babe's comfort. He felt blood, hot and sticky, dripping from the wound the beast was gnawing into his shoulder. Babe didn’t want to think about the permanent damage of the encounter. Suddenly, there was a gust of air and the red eyes were joined by a pair of glowing blue ones. Babe was too shocked to attack the new being.

Unexplainably, he couldn't help feeling that the blue eyes were there to help. Hell, it was probably this new predator's way of tricking Babe into submission, but Babe had a feeling about this. The beast suddenly whined, and the red lights flickered. Its jaws, still firmly around Babe’s shoulder, relaxed a little. Babe took his chance to punch the thing in the head, hard. The beast’s jaw detached from Babe’s shoulder with a tear of skin and fabric, jerking a noise from Babe. The blue eyes got brighter, so bright that Babe had to close his eyes. He covered his eyes with his hand as his eyelids turned bright pink from the light. This new thing, the one with the blue eyes, was too bright for Babe to even think about opening his eyes. There was a sound above the beast and it let out a noise, the fight draining out of it all at once. The light faded to nothing and Babe opened his eyes, completely engulfed in darkness. Its weight was suddenly far too heavy for Babe, who shoved the furry thing off, surprised that the pair of blue eyes hadn't attacked him yet.

Babe scrambled backward, grappling for his flashlight. His other hand slammed down on his wound, trying desperately not to lose any more blood. It stung like a motherfucker, but Babe pressed down harder. "Jesus fuck!" He shouted when he found his flashlight, swinging the light back to his new foe. Wings and pale skin and what the fuck, wings-- greeted his eyes. Startled blue eyes squinted against Babe's light, and their owner scrambled back, wings dragging in the dirt and dust. It appeared to be a man, except he had wings. Motherfucking. Wings. He was wearing a torn sweatshirt and jeans. Babe glanced to where he saw the wings before, and found the space bereft of such wings. He swung back quickly to the man. The beast, bloody and dead, laid a few feet away. The man--if that's what he was--seemed to notice the blood on his hands. He glanced from the light to his hands, then back at the light. If he was the owner of the blue eyes, now they were intimidated.

"Who are you?" He asked in a deep, uncertain voice.

"You gotta be kidding me," Babe said, eyes scanning over the giant-ass wings the man sported. "Who the fuck are you?"

 

-    one week earlier    -

“So, the coroner called it a wild animal attack, just like the other two victims. I asked about the claw marks; what kinda thing could fucking rip a man’s heart out, but the guy had no idea what kinda animal would do that. He said maybe a wolf, but Babe, wolves don’t have huge fucking claws. I suggested mountain lion, or some other big cat, but no cats larger than a lynx have been spotted in this area since 1850.”

Babe sipped at his coffee, which was by then cold. Babe made a face and clarified, “So, if we weren’t sure before, now there’s no doubt. It’s a monster we’re dealing with.”

“You got that right,” Bill said, leaning back against the car. He pulled a granola bar out of his pocket and angrily ripped it open, taking a large bite. Babe finished his coffee with a sigh, reaching in through the open window and setting his empty cup in the passenger seat.

“So, what now? Research?”

“Hey, you’re getting the swing of things!” Bill chuckled, clapping Babe’s shoulder. Babe grinned, pleased at the praise. He had been hunting with Bill for just over two months, and the going was a lot better than he would have thought. Though Babe was still new to the sport, and green as grass compared to Bill, he was improving quickly, and Babe knew that Bill could see it too.

“So, where’s the nearest library?” Babe asked, pulling out his phone. He quickly found out, as Bill finished his granola bar. “Get in the car and drive, hoss.” Babe commanded, opening the door and slipping inside. Bill rolled his eyes but pocketed his trash, walking around to his side of the car. He slipped inside and the engine practically came to life underneath his hands. He wouldn’t let Babe drive the car, but Babe was okay with it, for the moment. Bill’s car was his baby, after all.

They peeled out of the gas station, and within minutes, were at the library. They avoided the librarian and found the mythology and town records for themselves. Babe headed to a computer to do further research, while Bill scanned books upon books of lore and mythology. Babe took notes, a habit that Bill often neglected. Instead, Bill dog-eared books and had a bad habit of writing notes in the margins of books that were not his own.

Babe came up for air after an hour and a half of intense research, in order to share his notes with Bill. The librarian kept giving them odd looks, probably because neither of them had library cards or gave any sort of reason for their research. Luckily, the library was mainly deserted, so Bill and Babe could quietly converse without fear of others hearing them. Babe rose from his chair and crossed the carpeted floor to where Bill was sitting on the floor, surrounded by books he had pulled off of the shelves. “Whatcha got?” he asked, brandishing his pencil.

“Well,” Bill began, picking a book out of a pile to his left, “basically a whole lotta nothing.” Babe felt his heart sink, but he kept listening. “Let’s see, um, back in 1990 there was a string of similar attacks, only one victim though, a homeless man. It doesn’t seem that anybody really cared, as there was minimal searches for whatever killed him.” Babe made a note of that. “Otherwise, I got jack shit. I would guess either shapeshifter or werewolf, but I would expect more regular attacks from either of those sons of bitches.”

The words, which used to be so foreign to Babe, still gave him a small thrill when he heard them, proof that something more than humans and angels existed. He waited to make sure Bill was done talking, before he started: “Well, I found the same. Some mythology around vampires suggests that they tear out hearts, but the victims were found with clumps of wolf-like fur on them.” Babe sighed, running a hand through his hair.

Bill patted the pile of books next to him. “I say we study for another hour or two, then go get some chow, then we either call Nixon or do some more research.”

Babe nodded, moving back towards his computer. They did exactly as Bill suggested, and left an hour later for the nearest diner. They found a little joint called Lulu’s, a retro-esque kind of diner. Bill ordered a cheeseburger and Babe ordered a hamburger and a soda. The cashier gave them an odd look when Bill called Babe ‘Babe’, and Bill scoffed as they sat down, “Jesus Christ, I hate these small, conservative towns. You’d almost expect to see a Confederate flag fly above the fuckin’ elementary school.”

Babe nodded, sliding into the sticky pleather booth. Evangeline, Louisiana, had that classic ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ vibe that many small towns often have. He was used to his nickname, he was used to some people not understanding. It originated from Babe’s high school friends, and their teasing. Babe was the smallest, and by popular vote, the cutest, and the other boys protected him like no one else. Babe came to prefer the nickname to Edward, and it stuck. It still caused others to turn their head, though.

“So, I don’t think we’ll get any more productive information out of that library, don’t you think?” Bill asked, sipping at his beer. Babe rolled his eyes, Bill was barely old enough to buy it, but almost never got carded, due to the swagger in his walk and a gaze that dared you to test him. Babe was only twenty, and he knew that he couldn't even try something like that, due to his youthful looks and lack of an ID, fake or otherwise.

“Yeah, that place doesn’t have a lot of info anyway, we’re best off interviewing people or asking some of your hunter friends.”

“Babe, they’re _our_ hunter friends now. You’ve been riding with me long enough to know some of ‘em. You’ll meet the rest within a year, it’s a small world after all.”

Babe shrugged, smiling at the waitress when she brought them their meal. The boys dug in, silence filling their booth as they enjoyed the meal. It wasn’t the best burger Babe had ever had, by any standards, and there was extra red onion, which Babe specifically asked not to have, but otherwise, it was a good meal. The fries were a little damp, but it was food, and it was cheap. Babe left a tip, which Bill shrugged at, and they wandered back to the car. It was hot and humid outside, and even though it was mid-fall, it felt like July in Philly. They slipped inside and Bill pulled out his phone. He didn’t start the car, and Babe paused, not buckling his seatbelt. Bill dialed a long number and waited, setting it on speaker. The dial tone cut through the silent air.

After three rings, a disgruntled voice answered the phone, “Hello?”

“Nix, you dog!” Bill answered.

“Hey, Bill.” Nix sounded resigned.

“So, we got a bit of a case on our hands here, Babe and I.”

“Right, right. That kid you picked up from Philly.” Recognition seeped into the other man’s voice, and Babe felt his cheeks heat a little, for no real reason.

“That’s the one,” Bill said, glancing at Babe. “Anyways, we got a whole lot of nothing here, and a little bit of your esteemed help would be most welcome.” Nix was silent at the other end, and Bill took it as a sign to continue speaking. He explained the case, and what they thought it might be, while Babe fiddled with the pocketknife he carried.

Nix chimed in, after Bill was finished, “Well, it sounds like a shapeshifter to me. Those things feed off of animals and/or humans, depending on how deep their morality runs. It surprises me that it only ate the hearts of these victims. Generally something like that would eat the whole body.” His tone of voice suddenly changed as he asked someone with him, “Dick, what kind of cheese do you want on this?” a distant voice on the other end answered him.

Bill glanced at Babe, amusement in his eyes. “Who’s this Dick, Nix?” Bill asked teasingly.

“Aw, shut up.” Nix answered, a smile apparent in his voice. “You’ll meet him soon enough. Anyway, I wish you guys luck on this thing, I’ll look into it and get back to you.”

“Alright, thanks Nix.” Bill said, signing off of the call. He pocketed his phone and started the car, buckling his seatbelt. Babe buckled his seatbelt and waited for some sort of an explanation regarding the man. Bill saw Babe’s look and interpreted it thusly, saying, “Nix is a non-active hunter. He’s dedicated himself to research. He lives out in the middle of nowhere on a farm in Pennsylvania, getting drunk and telling us all what we should do to hunt this monster or that fucker.” Bill thought for a moment. “He sounded pretty sober, actually. I think he’s cleaned up a little bit for the guy he has with him.” Babe nodded, sorting the information back into his brain.

“Is there...I mean, is Nixon gay?” Babe asked cautiously, out of simple curiosity.

Bill shook his head, answering “No, I’m pretty sure he’s bi. In the years I’ve known him, he’s only dated a few people, but he’s dated guys and gals.” Babe nodded.

Babe had been with Bill long enough to know of these people, yet not long enough to actually meet any of these men and women. He knew of Joe Toye, aka ‘the meanest, toughest son of a bitch in the US’, and he knew of George Luz the wisecracker, and he knew of Johnny ‘Pissface’ Martin and his companion, Bull Randleman. He knew of ruthless Joe Liebgott and the smiling Perconte. He knew of these men, and had heard their voices on the phone, but he hadn’t met any of them. Babe could sense that it was some sort of rite of passage, to meet Bill’s hunter friends. He just hoped he survived long enough to actually pass it.

 

-   four days later   -

“There it is,” Bill hissed into Babe’s ear, pointing with a finger at the pair of glowing red eyes. It was massive, and Babe couldn’t help but feel fear creep into his veins. The beast, for that was the best name for it, sniffed at the offering the hunters had laid out for it: a freshly dead deer. It suddenly looked up, glanced around, and backed away from the carcass. Bill and Babe watched it retreat, speechless. They didn't talk until they were out of the hot night air and into their overly air-conditioned motel room.

“So, we know it lives in Fallow’s cave, right?” Babe asked, feeling a small shred of excitement mount in his chest, just as it always did before they hunted something, for real.

Bill nodded. “Yeah, we know. We also can figure that this thing doesn’t take dead meat, it’s a hunter. Which means that we gotta be real fuckin’ careful about this.” Babe nodded, sitting down at the small table in their room. He could tell that Bill was serious about this, that he really didn’t want Babe to get hurt. Mentally, they prepared themselves. Physically, Bill laid down on his bed and proceeded to watch House Hunters for an hour or two while drinking a beer.  

 

Two days later, Bill gave Babe a shotgun. Babe took it, fingers scanning over it. It was a good gun, and he glanced at Bill, who seemed to be trying to appear nonchalant about the whole ordeal. “It was my first real gun. You can keep it.” he turned away, but Babe slugged him on the shoulder to get his attention.

“Thanks, Bill. It means a lot.” he said with a small smile. Bill gave him a pack of ammo and showed him how to operate it, going down to all the small, intimate details of the gun.

“Now, remember that the bullet will curve just slightly to the right, so just be aware of that. You’ll have your knife as well.” Babe nodded, feeling the first pinprick of nervousness start to eat at his stomach.

 

They set off for the caves that night, reviewing the case and their weapons as they drove. “Now, we’re almost certain that there’s only one of these fuckers. If there are more, we deal.” his voice was steady and sure, but there was still a small amount of worry that caught Babe’s attention. He assured Bill that he would be fine, just as long as he had his gun.

It was still odd to think of it as _his_ gun, instead of one of Bill’s that he happened to be borrowing. His knife was tucked into his boot, a reassurance to Babe. It was almost midnight as they pulled up to the parking lot. It was a good quarter-mile walk through the dark to the cave, where Bill took off his bag and pulled out the ziplock bag. He unzipped it and pulled out the bloody piece of steak, dropping it solidly in front of the entrance to the cave. Babe felt his flashlight in his pocket and shifted from foot to foot, waiting.

The suspense was hard to handle for Babe, who felt the mounting pressure. He looked to Bill, who nodded once, jaw clenched. All at once, they became aware of the glowing red eyes. Bill reached for Babe, alerting him to the presence of the beast. Babe reached for his gun, moving slowly so as to not alert the beast to their presence in the forest.

Before either of them could really react, the thing lunged, a blur of dark fur and red eyes and claws, Jesus, the claws. Bill turned and fired twice before the thing hit him. They went flying back, slamming into a large tree behind Bill. Babe shouted to get the beast’s attention, who turned to Babe with a snarl. Babe could see the two spots where Bill hit it, which were oozing blood. Babe shot, erring on the side of caution, away from Bill. The beast’s massive head was only a foot from Bill’s, a mistake on Babe’s part could be disastrous.

Babe shot for the flank, which landed squarely. The beast whined, growling. Bill was unconscious beneath the thing. Babe felt fear, mixed with a fair bit of adrenaline, coursing through his veins like fire. The thing got the message and leaped off of Bill, running back at top speed into the cave system. Babe waited for a moment, gun still trained on the mouth of the cave, before he ran to Bill’s side. “Bill!” he shouted, kneeling next to him.

The other man opened his eyes and blinked. Recognition spread across his face when he saw Babe, before he groaned, covering his face with his hand. “...don’t feel s’ good.” Bill slurred, sounding pained.

“Yeah, well you probably have a concussion.” Babe said, propping the man up against the tree. Bill looked disoriented and in pain. Babe checked the back of his head, and he wasn’t bleeding, but it still looked bad.

“I’m gettin’ dizzy, Babe.” Bill said, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the tree.

“You stay put. Try to stay awake. We wounded the...whatever the fuck it was, but I need to go finish the job. Okay?”

Bill nodded, his eyes still closed. “I gotcha.” He gave a mock salute, but the gesture fell short, somehow, and his arm flopped back against the ground. Babe took that as a bad sign, but he left Bill there, with his knife, in case something attacked him. He didn’t think Bill could even use a shotgun, with his head what it was.

Babe turned on his flashlight and gripped it in his teeth, crawling into the deep, cool cave system. He kept his eyes peeled for the red eyes, but they weren’t around the first corner, or even the second one. Babe kept crawling, coming closer and closer to the beast. He could feel it.

 

-   present time    -

“Who the fuck are you?” Babe asked, because what else could you say to a guy with huge fucking wings?

The man blinked, shielding his eyes against the light. “I’m Eugene.” he answered. Babe noticed that he had a trail of blood down his temple. “Who are you?” he asked.

“I’m Babe.” Babe answered. He trained the light back on the beast. “Did you kill it?” he asked, fearing to get too close to it again.

“I, uh, I think so.” Eugene answered, wings shifting behind him, opening up more. Babe’s eyes followed along them. Eugene must have been able to see Babe’s face, because he answered a nonexistent question: “I’m an angel.” There was something defensive in his voice that Babe caught on, but decides to ignore.

But of course. Angels, though rare, were still known to Babe. There was one in his fifth grade class, for Christ’s sake. Babe mentally smacked himself for not thinking of it sooner.

His shoulder was still freely flowing with blood, and Babe winced as he prodded at it. Eugene spotted the movement, his eyes trained on the wound. “Here, I can fix that,” he said, sliding closer. Babe was reproachful, but he nodded, preparing to fight if he had to. Babe still had no idea where this angel’s allegiances lay, even if he had just killed the beast. Eugene came closer and for some absurd reason, Babe realized that his eyes were naturally blue.

Eugene was suddenly hesitant. He reached out, wiped his hands on his jeans, ran a hand through his hair, and reached out again, towards Babe’s shoulder. His hand landed a little ways away from the wound, on Babe’s jacket. The movement caused the fabric of the jacket to catch on the sensitive, exposed flesh, and Babe sucked in a breath, gritting his teeth.

“Sorry,” Eugene muttered, closing his eyes. There was a sliver of blue light that escaped Eugene’s eyelids, and Babe found himself watching the angel’s face as he felt tingles begin to erupt all around his wound. He glanced down to see the wound literally stitching itself back together, and Jesus fuck if that didn’t make Babe a little woozy.

The healing only took a handful of seconds, but Babe was a little relieved when it was over. Eugene opened his eyes and released Babe’s shoulder, breathing deeply. Babe reached across his body and prodded at the flesh. A little tender, but there was barely a scar and it was a lot better than having a gaping wound. “Holy shit, thank you,” he said, a little surprised.

Eugene nodded, shrugging with his shoulders and his wings. “It’s what we angels can do. Healing, that is.” Babe suddenly noticed the accent that flavored Eugene’s deep voice. It was local, he could tell, and it sounded great. Babe pushed the thought out of his head, mind flashing back to Bill and his probable concussion.

“How did you get in here?” Babe asked, retrieving his gun.

Eugene pointed to the back passage. “Though there. It takes you to a waterfall, about a half a mile from the road.

Babe nodded. “We’ll go out that way, then. The passage I came through is probably too small for your wings.”

Eugene nodded, and the two set off for the back passage. They decided that Eugene should lead the way, because he had been down that way before, and thusly he held the flashlight, climbing ahead of Babe.

Babe puzzled over this angel as they climbed. He felt a question rising in his throat, and decided to ask it. “Eugene, how did that thing get you? And why hadn’t he eaten you when I got there?”

Eugene paused to take the flashlight out of his mouth. “I was hiking sometime yesterday evening, and it came outta nowhere. Dragged me down this way, almost broke my wing, and then left. I think it was saving me for a later meal, when it got distracted. I was unconscious for a little while, but I think my time is accurate.”

Babe hummed and nodded, satisfied with his answer. Then Eugene asked, “So, what were you doing down here? You have a gun, so you was obviously prepared.”

Babe sighed, deciding that it wasn’t worth it to think of some bullshit cover story. “My friend and I, we hunt monsters for a living.” It was blunt and left a lot of things unsaid, but Babe figured it got the question out of the way, at least for the moment. Eugene knew that the thing existed, there was no point in trying to hide the truth. Eugene was silent, simply letting the words sink in. Babe got the feeling that he didn’t talk too much, unless he absolutely had to; that his words were valuable.

They climbed for what seemed like forever, pausing at different crossroads for Eugene to decide which way he was dragged down. Babe just prayed that he knew where he was going, and wouldn’t get them lost in the underground maze. Finally, after Babe’s forearms started to ache from pulling himself up so often, the ground leveled out, and they could walk with hunched backs. Before long, however, Eugene had to crawl on his hands and knees to get through a tighter spot. They made it through, and the walkway opened out to a larger opening. Babe could hear water trickling in the distance. They walked, side by side now, as the water sounds got louder. They rounded a corner and Babe could see the waterfall, if you could even call it that. It was barely flowing over the edge, but that made it easy for Eugene and Babe to slip by on the side without getting wet. Babe imagined that once the rains came and the waterfall rushed readily, this entrance to the cave would be completely hidden and nearly inaccessible.

They slipped out of the cave and Babe took a moment to breathe, enjoying the moonlight on his skin and the stars in the sky above him. He wasn’t claustrophobic, but it was a relief to be out of the cave and under the sky again. Eugene led Babe on a small trail, and before they knew it, they were walking along the highway. They were both silent, feeling no need to breach the quiet between them. Babe wasn’t quite used to pleasant silence yet. Living with Bill meant almost constant chatter, a nonstop running commentary on pretty much everything they saw. With Eugene, it seemed that silence was a requirement, a preferred alternative to speech. Babe wasn’t sure what to think about that.

“Here.” Eugene handed the flashlight over, slipping his hands into his pockets. Babe couldn’t stop thinking about how warm Eugene’s hands were when their fingers brushed.

They ended up at the parking lot pretty quickly, and then Babe took the lead, leading them down to the other entrance to the cave. Bill was, thank God, still at the tree where Babe left him, prodding his head and fiddling with the knife. “Bill!” Babe called, jogging the last little way to the other hunter. Bill looked up, squinting even though it was dark outside. Babe turned off the flashlight, pocketing it. “Hey, big guy. How you feeling?” Babe asked.

“Like a piece of elephant shit,” Bill answered after a beat. He finally noticed Eugene, standing awkwardly a few feet behind Babe. “Who’re you?” he asked, a defensive tone setting into his voice.

“This is Eugene, the thing we killed took him a day or two ago.” Babe filled in. Eugene slid in next to Babe, crouching in front of Bill.

“Concussion?” he asked, already reaching.

“I think so.” Babe said as Eugene’s hand landed on Bill’s shoulder. Eugene closed his eyes and Bill jerked, before his eyes flew open.

“Jesus fucking christ, what the hell was that?” he asked, shocked.

Babe laughed a little. “He healed you, Bill.” Babe helped Bill up, and the three of them trekked back to the car. As Babe helped Bill into the passenger seat, he noticed Eugene standing awkwardly a little ways away, fiddling with his hands and looking at his feet. _He’s unsure of where to go or what to do_ , Babe realized. He waited for a moment, unsure of how hospitable to be. Then, he remembered that Mama Heffron never raised no ungrateful man, and he spoke out: “Hey, Eugene,” Babe called.

Eugene looked up, a little startled.

“Where do you live? I can drop you off there. Your girlfriend must be worried sick about you.”

Eugene shook his head. He hesitated for a moment. “No girl, actually.” he paused, as if trying to find the right words. “If you don’t mind, I’ve been looking for a way outta this town. Where are you headed next?” he asked.

Babe turned to Bill. “The middle of nowhere, Pennsylvania. I’ve decided that it’s high time we see ol’ Nixon himself.” Bill piped in.

Babe turned to Eugene. “How does that sound?” Babe assumed that this would be okay with Bill. And besides, even if it wasn’t, they owed the angel anyway. It was the least they could do.

The smallest hint of a smile colored Eugene’s face, and he nodded. “That sounds lovely,” he said. Eugene crossed to the car, hopping into the back seat. Babe slid into the front seat, plucking the keys from the dashboard. Bill was still too out of it to really complain, so Babe took the opportunity to finally drive the car. He watched Eugene adjust himself, so that his wings fanned out behind him, so he could safely buckle his seatbelt.

Babe grinned at him in the rearview mirror, started the engine and peeled away, the only things between them and civilization a thin meander of road in Louisiana. Babe couldn’t help but feel happy, couldn’t help but feel satisfied. He had an angel in the backseat and his best friend in the passenger seat, driving off to the unknown future. It was daunting, but Babe knew he could take whatever came at him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Evangeline is a real place and I have no idea how conservative it is, as I am but a simple Californian.


	2. Haneyville

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Babe & co. make their way to Haneyville, PA with remarkably few mishaps along the way.

The highway was a thin gray streak in front of Babe, the same color as the dawn sky above it. Trees on either side of the road were still, quiet. The car seemed to be the only thing that was moving, the only thing that was alive. It was quiet, however. Babe was still as well, foot on the gas and hands on the steering wheel. The road seemed to go forever before they passed another car. Bill was asleep in the passenger seat, arms crossed and scowl softened in his more gentle state. Eugene was in the back, sitting sideways in the corner seat so that his wings could fan out in front of him. 

Babe watched as light slowly filtered in, Eugene’s face becoming more clear and pristine in the uncertain gray light. Babe hadn’t been entirely sure of what the man looked like, since he had seen Eugene only when it was dark, or when a flashlight was thrust in his face. Babe decided, then and there, that Eugene’s face was much more beautiful by dawn than by night. His cheeks were fine and high on his face, his impossibly dark hair a stark contrast to his pale skin. He had the faintest hint of stubble on his jaw, a fact that Babe decided he shouldn’t find as attractive as he did. 

He was wearing an oversized gray jacket and blue jeans, with leather work boots. He carried no bags with him, and he didn’t have Babe stop anywhere to pick up anything, despite Babe asking if he needed to pick anything. Babe wondered at what could have caused a young man like him to completely uproot, and at such a young age. He appeared to only be in his late teens or early twenties, not very far off from Babe or Bill’s ages himself. 

Then again, Babe supposed that there could be a lot of factors to Eugene leaving his home. He could have fallen on hard times, he could have had a bad family situation, he could have an abusive spouse or simply be piss-broke. Babe secretly hoped, somewhat guiltily, that Eugene had some money with him. Money was always tight with him and Bill, and adding a third to their ranks wouldn’t do the bank good. 

Not that Bill and Babe had talked about the fact that they had an angel in their backseat. In fact, no talk about the other man had happened at all, considering Bill had passed out pretty much as soon as he got into the car, and dawn was only breaking over the horizon. Babe made a mental note to talk to Bill alone about Eugene later. 

Babe’s stomach rumbled loudly, jerking Babe out of his thoughts. He glanced down the road, knowing that a fast food joint wouldn’t be for another hour or so. He sighed, shifting in his seat. This wasn’t Babe’s first all-nighter on the road, but he still didn’t like them any more than the next guy. They left Babe feeling drained and like someone had rubbed sand into his eyes. 

Babe realized that he was glancing at Eugene too much for full road safety, and decided to pull over to pee and stretch his legs. The road shifted to gravel underneath the tires, and Babe decisively twisted the key in the ignition. The clock on the dashboard, before it went dark, read 5:16. Babe felt like something with hooves had run over him several times. His skin didn’t feel like it fit quite right. As Babe stepped out of the car and into the open air, he realized just how tired he was. The cool air of the morning invigorated him a little, and Babe stared out into the fog as he felt the urge to curl up and nap almost overtake him. 

The sound of the car door opening caused Babe to turn, and see Eugene awkwardly getting out of the car, wings causing to be a pain in the ass to maneuver out of a car. Babe felt a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth, but quickly banished it. Eugene made it out of the car and stood, wings opening up behind him in a magnificent display. Babe turned to see the first light of dawn pierce the fog in front of them, and it landed on them. Eugene walked over to where Babe was sitting on the hood of the car, and with a sleepy attempt at a smile, hopped onto the hood next to Babe. There was a breath of air behind Babe as Eugene’s wings opened up, extending far past either side of the car. 

Babe tried not to be in awe and failed. Instead, he muttered, “Good morning,” Eugene simply hummed, letting the sun fall upon his open wings and his face. He leaned back and closed his eyes, and Babe was left to chuckle and swing his feet. He regarded Eugene in the sunlight, as he was unable to do the night before. 

_ Goddamn it, he’s gorgeous,  _ Babe thought, choosing to instead look at the angel’s wings. They were the same color as his hair, and with the dawn light hitting them just so, Babe could detect a slight shimmer in the feathers. Eugene opened his wings farther, so that they arched up and out. The one behind Babe hit him lightly in the head, and Eugene’s eyes flew open immediately, his wings coming back down. 

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he muttered, voice rough from sleep. Babe shook his head and grinned.

“No need to apologize.” 

Eugene was silent at that. Babe got the feeling he was silent about a lot, so he decided to initiate the conversation. 

“So, if you don’t mind me poking a nose in your business, why are you so keen to leave Louisiana?” 

Eugene turned his head at that, sitting back upright, careful not to bump Babe with his wings. He scratched his head, looking back towards the sunrise. “Not the kinda life I’m looking for, I guess,” he said. Babe nodded. He understood that well enough himself, having left house and school and home in order to travel and hunt with Bill. 

They sat on the hood of the car for another couple of minutes, before Babe felt his eyes drifting closed and his limbs getting heavy. He hopped off and goes to wake up Bill, tapping twice on the window of his seat. Bill jerked awake, a hunter reflex, and grumbled to himself when Babe gestured with his head. He scrambled over the console and flopped down into the driver’s seat, while Babe opened the door and slid into the passenger seat. Eugene was still sitting on the hood of the car, face turned to the sun and wings spread wide. The light haloes around Eugene’s head, and Babe finally realized why humans first believed that angels came straight from God. 

Eugene stretched his arms over his head, his wings folding behind his back. He hopped off the hood of the car and circled to the back seat, climbing into the back. Bill yawned as Babe made himself comfortable, starting the car and gunning down the road with a roar of the engine. 

 

\---

 

Babe slept until Hattiesburg, where they pulled into a small burger joint. The three shuffled inside, Eugene tucking his wings firmly to his back so that they didn’t take up that much room. They slipped into a booth, Babe in the middle and Bill and Eugene on either side. They ordered breakfast and dug in. Babe was on the verge of sleep the whole time, but Bill was well-rested and he wanted to know all about a certain angel. 

“Where are you from, Eugene?” 

“Morgan City, Louisiana, sir.” 

“No need to call me sir, I ain’t your commander.” Bill sounded amused rather than offended. A short smile was on his face. 

“Habit, I guess.” Eugene shrugged, and looked down at his eggs and toast. Babe yawned and his eyes watered. Bill took a sip of his coffee. He was still watching Eugene with a hint of suspicion. Babe understood where Bill was coming from; they had just met Eugene only a few the night before. 

After breakfast, Babe collapsed into the back of the Dodge and fell asleep almost immediately. Eugene climbed in, wings taking up a lot of room and feathers flying in the wind whenever a window was rolled down. Bill drove and kept his music quiet so that Babe could sleep. They stopped only a few times to pee or stretch their legs or to grab a snack from a gas station, and Babe didn’t even wake up for the first couple of stops. 

At one stop, while Eugene was in the restroom, Babe and Bill talked. “We can drop him off in Haneyville.” Bill said. “We don’t have that much money but we can give him something.” 

“It feels wrong for him to leave.” Babe confessed. 

“What?” Bill exclaimed. “Babe, we saved him from whatever the fuck that thing was, and he helped us in return. He wants to get out of Louisiana, that’s all.” He pulled the gas nozzle out of the side of the car. “We can’t just take along every person we save.” He spoke quieter. 

Babe wanted to speak out that that was exactly what Bill had done for Babe two months earlier 

He woke up to Bill’s voice floating into the back seat from the driver’s seat. Babe had to wake up to catch the end of the question. 

“...so how does that healing power work, exactly?” Bill asked Eugene. 

“Well, I don’t really know how to explain it,” Eugene said, flexing his hand. “It’s called my Grace, first of all, and it’s not an unlimited resource. It takes time to recharge it if I overuse it.” He hesitated. “It can also be recharged with strong, positive emotion directed my way. It’s not just for healing though, I can harm if I try hard enough. But I don’t like to do that.” He looked down at his palms, laced together in his lap. 

Bill said nothing, for once. Babe got the sense that Eugene had shocked Bill a bit into submission. 

They pulled into a motel just outside of Kingsport, Tennessee. Babe unloaded their stuff from the trunk while Bill checked them in. It was dark outside and the cicadas were loud in the air, in one of their final celebrations of summer before it was over. Eugene leaned against the car, wings out and relaxed. His skin was incredibly pale in the moonlight. As Babe pretended not to watch, Eugene pulled out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. He lit one and sent a puff of smoke into the hot night air. 

“Smoking kills,” Babe couldn’t help but chastise, coming to lean against the car next to Eugene. Eugene shuffled over to make room. 

“I know,” Eugene said quietly, glancing at Babe. He took another drag, exhaled, offered to Babe, who accepted with a shrug. He had been a smoker in high school, but had gotten some common sense along with his diploma and had decided the summer after graduation that he needed to stop. 

“You know, I’ve decided that this is my last pack of cigarettes ever.” Eugene said, more to the moon than to Babe. Babe reveled in the feeling as the smoke hit his lungs. He didn’t allow himself this comfort really ever, and he wanted to enjoy it while it lasted. He exhaled and passed the cigarette back to Eugene. 

“I quit right outta high school,” Babe said. Eugene turned to look at Babe and Babe looked back at him in the moonlight. “I decided that if I didn’t stop then, it would probably kill me.” 

“Then why are you smoking now?” Eugene asked, passing the cigarette back. 

“It’s your last pack, therefore it’s the last pack near me for a while.” Babe said with a smirk. Eugene laughed. Bill walked out of the building and gestured for Babe and Eugene to follow him. Eugene dropped his cigarette and extinguished it under the toe of his boot, one stick of tobacco closer to sobriety. Babe picked up their bags, double-checked that the car was locked, and followed Bill. 

“I got us only one room” Bill said to Babe, “I hope you don’t mind” to Eugene. Eugene shrugged and followed Babe inside the room, which smelled a little off. There were two beds, and Eugene immediately offered to sleep on the floor, but both Bill and Babe would hear nothing of it. 

“You can share a bed with either one of us, or me and Babe can share if you want your own bed.” Bill said around his toothbrush. As soon as he was done brushing his teeth, he stripped to a t-shirt and boxers and collapsed onto one of the beds, exhausted after a long day of driving. Babe let Eugene borrow his toothbrush and toothpaste. Babe washed his mouth out a couple times more than necessary. While the cigarette was nice while it lasted, it also made his mouth taste like an ashtray, and he didn’t like that. 

Bill was fast asleep by the time that Babe came out of the bathroom. Eugene was watching TV with the volume turned almost all the way down, flipping through commercials until he landed on reruns of an old game show. His skin looked blue in the light of the television, his eyes half closed. He looked relaxed unlike how Babe had ever seen him. Babe changed shirts and took his jeans off. As he was changing, he caught a whiff of himself and decided to take a shower anyway. 

When Babe exited the bathroom for the second time, red hair in spikes and skin soft and damp, Eugene was asleep. While Babe was gone he had slipped underneath the covers and turned off the TV. His wings were outstretched, hanging over the edge of the bed. Babe carefully crawled in, turned off the last light, and went to sleep. 

 

Babe Heffron awoke with a jolt. He held perfectly still, ears ringing in their straining effort to hear what had caused him to wake up. Heart pounding, he glanced towards the window. It was still dark outside. A glance at the clock revealed that it was 3:45 am. He glanced at Bill, who was still asleep. Babe carefully, slowly turned his head to look at Eugene. The angel was still asleep as well. Babe felt his heart rate returning to a normal pace. Babe was almost ready to write the instance off as a dream or a nightmare or something when he heard it. 

A soft scratching noise from the door, barely audible. Babe felt his veins flood with ice. He reached across the space between the two beds and laid a hand on Bill, whose eyes opened immediately. He was ready to fight whoever woke him up when he realized it was Babe. Babe laid his finger over his mouth in a shushing motion, before nodding towards the door. Bill slowly sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He knelt and rifled in his clothes from the day before. He pulled out a knife and nodded for Babe to follow suit. Babe laid a hand across Eugene’s mouth, who woke with a start. He tried to say something, but Babe pressed down, shushing him. Eugene stilled. His blue eyes looked dark grey in the light, and they bored a hole into Babe’s brown eyes. Babe slowly took his hand away. 

They carefully rose and crossed the room, towards the door. The scratching had only gotten louder. Bill crouched just behind the door. He held his knife in a firm grip, Babe could see the color draining from his knuckles as the three crouched on the shag carpet behind the door. Bill gestured to Eugene, who went to hide in the bathroom. 

From the door came a click. Bill made fast, frantic eye contact with Babe, before both of their eyes locked on the door handle. It was turning. Fucking rotating, and Babe and Bill had been sure to lock their door before going to bed. The door opened, so very slowly. 

A shaft of silver moonlight fell upon the empty bed closest to the door. The shaft got wider as the door opened very, very slowly. Babe held his breath in his chest, scared that the slightest sound or movement would alert their nighttime visitor of their position. A foot wearing a white sneaker cautiously stepped into the room. Babe could sense Bill tightening next to him, ready to spring into action. The door opened wider and the person slipped into the room, closing the door behind them. 

The room fell dark once again, but their visitor was in the darkness long enough for Babe to see that it was a teenage girl. She had long, dark hair and wore baggy clothing. Bill tapped Babe and Babe leapt at her, diving for her legs. Bill went for her throat with his knife. 

She whipped around and Babe could see that her eyes were jet black with no whites. Where her eyes should have been were two black orbs, malicious and calculating. Babe hit her legs, but it felt like he was slamming into a block of marble. The girl didn’t budge whatsoever. Bill landed next to Babe, knife still in hand. Babe tried to get up but felt an unearthly grip on his throat and torso, pushing him farther into the ground. 

“The fuck are you?” Bill shouted into the carpet. 

“You’ve killed so many of my kind, you fucking monster.” the girl growled out. Her voice, young but with so much malice, sent chills down Babe’s spine. 

“Who’s your meat suit?” Bill asked. “She sounds too fucking young for you to be possessing.” Babe had never fought a demon before, but Bill had told him plenty. And he knew that they needed salt or iron or some other demon repellent. 

“She’s still alive, she’ll be fine.” the demon assured.

“What the fuck do you want with us?” Babe ground out. 

“Your partner here,” and at that she kicked Bill in the ribs, which caused him to wheeze and cuss, “killed one of my closest friends. And for that” at that she reached down and picked up Bill’s knife. Babe could see Bill grit his teeth as he could do nothing about it, her hold on the two of them was so strong. “You both will pay.” 

Babe strained against her as hard as he could, but it was to no avail. She was too powerful. He felt his body raise into the air and rotate, so that his front was facing up. He could only see the gray ceiling. She leaned over him and sneered. She walked around them and held her knife to Babe’s throat. Babe closed his eyes, but she forced them open with a wave of her hand. Babe’s eyes watered as she slowly, oh so slowly applied pressure. He knew his skin would break at any instant when--

Light blue light flooded the room. The girl shouted with a voice much deeper than her biological one. Her hold on Babe and Bill fell and Babe covered his eyes, but not before he saw Eugene, eyes bright and wings out, who had grabbed her from behind. 

Babe blinked and the girl struggled. She opened her mouth, tilted her head back, and black smoke came pouring out of her mouth. Eugene shouted, reached out a hand, caught the smoke, and forced it back into her body. The light in his eyes wavered but he pressed on. Babe became aware of Bill shouting an exorcism. 

The girl struggled more and more as Bill spoke the unfamiliar Latin words. Babe grabbed her legs to help Eugene hold her in place. Every muscle in her body was tensed as she lashed out at both of them. A hole, blacker than night, opened up underneath her. The black smoke fell from her mouth and was sucked down into the hole. Babe thought he saw fire and heard distant screams as the last of the smoke left her body and swirled down to Hell. 

Her body went limp and the room fell silent. The light in Eugene’s eyes was gone, and he was back to his normal appearance. He sat back on the ground, breathing heavily. Babe could see his hands shaking when he went to push her off of him. Bill crawled over and pressed two fingers to the underside of his jaw. After a tense moment, he sagged and let out a relieved sigh. “She’s still alive.” 

Babe and Bill stood. Eugene, when he tried to stand, wavered and had to sit back down. They picked up the girl and carried her to one of the beds. A quick search of her pockets led to the discovery of her wallet. Her name was Clara Marshfield, and she was a resident of North Carolina. According to her driver’s license, she was 17 years old. They found a smart phone on her as well, but it was password protected. They were careful not to get their fingerprints on her wallet or her phone, and to return each item where it was. 

Babe and Bill knew that they would be questioned if they turned her in to the authorities. After a hushed debate, they carefully broke into a empty room down the hall, carried her to it, and left her with a note on how they found her and couldn’t wake her up. She hadn’t been raped or beaten, they didn’t think. They left her with money to possibly find her way home. Babe had the feeling that the vessels, almost always drained of the memory of their time being possessed ended up worse off than the hunters or the things possessing them. 

When they got back to their room, the sun was starting to rise and the sky was lightening in color. Bill started packing. “We might as well leave now,” he surmised. Babe sat down next to Eugene for a moment. He looked shaken and a little tired. “Hey, how are you feeling?” Babe asked. 

“Drained.” came his quiet answer. Babe didn’t prod, but the words came soon enough. “It took a lot of effort to force that...that thing back into her body.” He twirled a feather between his fingers. “I’m also still trying to process all that’s happened to me in the last two or three days, you know? I mean, three days ago I didn’t even know that monsters existed.” 

Babe felt his heart ache for the man. He remembered how it felt when he first joined Bill: everything was confusing and he learned daily about all of the different things that could kill him. He felt very alone. But in that aloneness, there was Bill, who was so much like a big brother to Babe. And with Bill came the network of hunters that stretched from Luz in California to Webster in New York. Babe knew that they would welcome him like family. 

“I remember the feeling,” Babe said with a laugh. “Believe me, as odd as it sounds, you get used to it. And seeing stuff like that…” he paused. “It gets easier.” 

Eugene nodded. “Are you hurt?” he asked after a beat. 

Babe stopped to consider that. He hadn’t actually thought about it, what with everything to handle and take care of. He felt his neck, near his Adam’s apple, where she had pressed the knife. There was the slightest cut. “This is it,” he said, tilting his head to show Eugene the wound. 

Eugene was already reaching, eyes glimmering light blue when he paused and asked, “May I?” Babe nodded, and Eugene reached out. Babe felt his skin stitching together, the dried blood falling away as tissue reknit itself together. He shivered as Eugene’s outstretched hand brushed the tender skin of his neck. He felt the last skin close where the cut was, before Eugene’s hand slowly fell away. Babe realized his eyes were closed, and he opened them to find Eugene looking at him with an indescribable look on his face. 

“It’s time to go,” Bill said from the doorway, duffel bag slung over one shoulder. Babe scrambled to his feet, pulling Eugene up with him. He quickly packed his bag and they checked out of the motel. They pulled away from Tennessee as the sun rose over the overpass, as Babe tried to put the long-term effects of the night on Clara Marshfield out of his mind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm really excited for the next chapter


	3. Casa Nixon/A beautiful respite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Babe, Bill, and Eugene spend some time with Nixon and Dick.

“We’re out of money,” Bill said quietly into his coffee while Eugene was in the restroom. 

((“We’re out of money”, Bill had said a month and a half earlier. Babe had insinuated he could make some money off of the guys sitting at the bar. Bill suggested playing them in pool and taking their winnings. Babe suggested charging $10 a blowjob out back. He had never seen Bill so furious. “You listen to me, Babe,” Bill said with fiery intensity in his eyes. His hand gripped Babe’s arm, hard enough to leave a bruise. “I’m not going to make you resort to fucking prostitution.” He had sat back, a sadder look in his eyes to replace the intensity. Bill had made Babe promise to never whore himself out. Bill said that no time was so tough that they needed to resort to selling their bodies. Babe thought about that a lot as he cheated at cards and pool to earn a couple of extra bucks.))

“What are we gonna do about it?” Babe asked. He felt a sort of sinking feeling in his stomach. They didn’t stay low on money for long, but the worry and rationing that accompanied it was always unpleasant. 

“We don’t have enough to stay in another motel, so we’ll just have to bust our asses to Nixon’s place and hope we don’t run outta gas along the way.” Bill paused for a moment, stirring another little cup of half and half into his cup. “Which means we won’t have any money to leave Eugene with when we bid him fare fucking well.” Babe winced at that. 

“Are you sure we have to leave him?” Babe asked hesitantly. Before Bill could reply, Babe said, “I know that we can’t just pick up anyone, but he’s seen so much of what we do already, and he knows so much. We can’t just leave him piss-broke in some city.” 

“Babe, we don’t know fucking anything about this guy! We don’t know why he’s so keen to get out of Evangeline in the first place.” Bill leaned closer to Babe over the table and whispered, “For all we fucking know, he could be a criminal that we’re helping escape the law.” 

“Oh, like we’re so above the law.” Babe retorted hotly. He spotted Eugene walking back towards the table, wiping his hands on his jeans. Babe took a sip of his coffee. Bill was silent. Eugene seemed to pick up on their recent silence and decided to break it. 

“I suppose you don’t really know who I am.” he began. 

“You’re not very talkative,” Bill remarked. Eugene glanced at him, looking annoyed. 

“My name is Eugene Roe. I’m from Morgan City, Louisiana. Up until two weeks ago I was employed in a construction company.” 

“What happened two weeks ago?” Bill asked, sounding suspicious. 

“Our company was bought out by one of the construction giants and 500 of us were laid off.” 

“I’m sorry to hear about that.” Bill said, not sounding sorry at all. 

“Okay, but then why are you so keen to leave? I mean, we didn’t go to your place to get any clothes or anything.” Babe inquired. 

Eugene looked down at the table. His jaw clenched and unclenched, his fingers twitched. After a long moment, he said softly, “My ex girlfriend was pretty abusive. Physically and emotionally. When I met you two, I saw a ticket out. She would think that I perished at the hands of whatever the fuck that thing was, and I could get away from her at last.” 

Babe felt awful for ever doubting Eugene. He looked at Bill, and Bill looked likewise affected. His brow was knit together and a sad, sympathetic look had come onto his face. From what they had experienced of Eugene so far, he had been nothing but kind and helpful, if not a little quiet. The thought that anyone would hurt him or take advantage of his kindness made Babe feel sick to his stomach. 

“I’m sorry to hear about that,” Bill said, sounding truly sorry. “I, uh, I know what those kinds of relationships can be like,” his voice was sympathetic and Eugene looked up from the table to meet his eyes. “I’m glad you got out,” he said. 

This was also news to Babe. Bill had hardly ever mentioned his past relationships, much less if they were abusive or not. Bill wasn’t shy around women, in fact he was very charming, and often had a one-night stand if they were passing through some town and could afford separate rooms. 

Silence fell over the group and stayed as they got up, got into the car, and drove on, towards Nixon’s abode. It gave Babe plenty of time to think over everything that had transpired that day, all of the new information he had gleaned. As they approached the final big city in between them and Haneyville, Bill finally spoke. 

“Eugene, do you want to ride with us for a while?” Eugene glanced up. “Full disclosure, this business is fucking dangerous, we break the law a lot, and we’re piss-broke most of the time.” Bill was trying to downplay the seriousness of the offer; none of it was lost on Eugene. 

Eugene smiled a small, hesitant smile. “I would like that a lot,” he said, earnestly. And that was that. In a few sentences, Eugene had joined their group, Babe felt a smile slip onto his face. He was happy they wouldn’t be parting ways just yet. He turned the radio on to Bill’s favorite rock station and they jammed all the way to Haneyville. Babe liked the way Eugene laughed at his air guitar. He had a feeling he could get used to it. 

 

\---

 

To get to Lewis Nixon’s house, one had to take a desolate, heavily wooded road for a couple of miles. Then, after 20 minutes of gravel roads and whacking leaves on both sides of the car, the trees on the left dropped away to give way to a field. Sitting on the other side of the field was a large two story red house, perched at the edge of the woods. The road curved around the field and met the side of the house, where a small structure housed a covered motorcycle. 

The place was pleasantly quiet. Technically, they were on state game lands, which Bill said was ‘a long story’. After days of driving on busy highways, the calm and the quiet was incredibly appealing. As they neared the house, a man in his mid twenties came out of the house to stand on the covered porch. He had dark hair and light skin. Babe could see that he was wearing a flannel and jeans, as the air had a cool nip of winter to it. As they pulled up, another man in his mid twenties wandered out onto the porch to stand beside the first man. The second man had bright red hair and a pair of dusty auburn wings. 

They hopped out of the car and the two men met them at the bottom of the stairs. The dark-haired man gave Bill a firm handshake and then laughingly pulled him in for a hug. Babe surmised that he was Nixon, then. “Bill, this is Dick. Dick, Bill.” Nixon introduced the second man. He shook Bill’s hand, and a knowing look entered Bill’s eye. Bill turned and beckoned Babe closer, who had been lagging a little behind. It was evident that Nixon and Bill went way back, and Babe didn’t want to intrude. Bill laid a firm, fatherly hand on Babe’s shoulder. “This here is Babe. Babe, this is Nixon,” the dark haired man smiled and shook his hand. “And Dick.” Dick shook Babe’s hand. His hands were rough, it was obvious he was more physical than Nixon. 

Babe heard a sound and saw Eugene a little ways back, scuffing his toe in the gravel. Babe called his name and Eugene looked up, startled. Babe motioned him over. “This is Eugene, we picked him up in Louisiana.” 

“Well, welcome to the family,” Nixon said invitingly. Dick’s eyes lit up when he saw Eugene’s wings. Babe, after knowing Dick and Nixon for barely five minutes, was already incredibly fond of them. 

Nixon and Dick helped carry their things in from the car, and Nixon took them to their respective bedrooms. “We’ve been renovating a little, so two of you will have to share, but we do have space enough for everyone.” Nixon assigned Bill to a bedroom adjacent to what was obviously Nixon and Dick’s bedroom. Nixon assigned Eugene and Babe to a smaller bedroom, which was downstairs. It had obviously been used for storage before, and there were still some boxes shoved into the corners of the room. There were two mattresses on the floor, both outfitted with sheets and blankets. The room was narrow enough that there was only a couple feet of space between the two mattresses. Eugene claimed the one on the right, and Babe set his bag down on the left mattress. 

Nixon’s house was exactly what one would expect of a man in his mid-twenties whose job was ‘research’. Books were everywhere. On the counters, strewn about the bookcase, on the couch and on the coffee table. “I’m reorganizing, sorry for the mess,” Nixon apologized when he saw Babe eyeing the stacks of books everywhere. Aside from that, the house seemed to be pretty neat and kept in order. Babe got the feeling that Dick was responsible for most of the order of the house. 

It was just after noon, and Dick was cooking in the kitchen. Bill was sitting at the table with Nixon, and they were reminiscing about past hunting encounters. Through the window, Babe could see a garden out back with rows of fresh plants and new beds recently dug. Dick saw Eugene open the door to the downstairs bathroom and whistled to get his attention. “Use the one upstairs,” he advised. “That one’s tiny and kind of hard to use when you have wings.” Eugene sent a small smile and jogged up the stairs. 

Nixon and Dick exchanged a fond, knowing look. 

Babe sat next to Bill and listened with wide eyes to all of the stories that Nix and Bill shared. Babe laughed at some of the more hilarious encounters, but in the end all he had was awe for the two. The way Nixon talked, though, made it obvious that he had not hunted in a while. “Why’s that?” Babe interjected. He immediately felt like a snot-nosed kid for jumping in the way he did. 

“I realized I liked the books better than the action,” Nixon said with a shrug. “Our friends are the best, and I figured I could help them by holing up and doing research. Make myself available as a resource.” Dick pressed a kiss to his temple as he sat down next to Nixon. A smile crossed Nixon’s face. 

“But me,” Bill said, nudging Babe, “Give me all the action you got.” he and Nixon laughed together. Eugene slunk in from the other room and sat next to Babe, his wings tucked firmly against his back. After a minute, Dick turned and started talking to Eugene. Their conversation moved to angel stuff pretty quickly, and Babe quietly excused himself. He walked down the step into the living room, where he trailed a hand over all of the ancient books that Nixon had in his bookshelf. 

Babe crossed under the rifle hanging above the door and wandered out onto the porch. He took a deep breath of cool autumn air. The only sounds he could hear were the chatter from the kitchen and the birds from the distant treeline. He stood on the porch, gazing out into the cool yellow afternoon for some minutes, just thinking. 

There was a slight sound behind him. Babe turned to see Eugene shuffling his wings through the open door. “Hey,” Babe called. 

“Hey,” Eugene said back. Babe wondered if Eugene’s hair was black or just dark brown. His hair looked blacker than his wings, but in the soft golden light, they both looked dark brown, almost a dark auburn. Eugene glanced up to meet Babe’s eyes and Babe glanced away, embarrassed to have been caught staring so obviously. 

“Have you met them before or…” Eugene gestured back towards the house. 

“Dick and Nixon? No, I only started riding with Bill like two or three months ago.” 

“Really? It seems you two have known each other for years.” Eugene’s low voice was full of amazement and surprise. 

“I know, fuck, it feels like it’s been years.” Babe was amazed that he had only been a hunter for that long. It felt like his old life was centuries behind him. He glanced back into the house, where Dick and Bill were talking about something. Nixon was leaned back in his chair, his arm across the back of Dick’s chair. Yes, Babe had only known them for an hour, but he already felt completely at home in their house in the middle of nowhere in Pennsylvania. 

 

That night, at a delicious dinner that Dick prepared, Eugene quietly asked how Nixon and Dick met. They glanced at each other. “Funny you should ask,” Nixon said. “It’s kind of a long story.” 

“I’m actually curious to hear this.” Bill added in. “I’ve never known any soul to work so well with ol’ Nixon’s, so tell us, where did you find him?” he gestured to Dick. 

Dick’s brow knotted as he started to talk. “My family...um, was the target of a hate crime against angels.” The mood of the dinner went down instantly. Babe could see Eugene’s jaw clench out of the corner of his eye. Nixon took Dick’s hand underneath the table. 

“It was by a demon going by the name of Arden. I was the sole survivor, and I ran.” 

“Straight into my house, no less.” Nixon interjected. 

“I was badly hurt and I needed help, and Nixon was here to take care of me.” they shared a small smile. 

“And now Arden is no longer.” Nixon said decisively. Babe wondered if the fresh scar on Dick’s forearm had anything to do with that. After that, the conversation moved onto other topics. Eugene and Dick talked briefly of the horrendous acts that were hate crimes against angels, but no one wanted to keep the mood down, so conversation moved back to happier matters. Bill found out that Harry Welsh, a hunter and an old friend of Nixon’s, was finally marrying his long-time girlfriend Kitty. Bill actually excused himself from the table to call Harry and leave him a message to congratulate him. 

They all cleared the table together, but Nixon and Dick insisted on doing the dishes together. Bill pulled Eugene and Babe aside to quietly inform them that Nixon was a recovering alcoholic and that if they had any alcohol on them, drink it in private. Babe had wondered why no one was drinking even beer at dinner, but he just kept his mouth shut. 

Babe and Eugene settled in on the couch to watch some TV. Dick eventually joined them, settling into an armchair. Babe realized that one of Eugene’s feathers had fallen out and he twirled it around his finger, enjoying how soft it was. Eugene noticed and shuffled his wings so that his left wing laid across Babe’s lap. “You can play with the feathers, if you want,” Eugene offered it casually, but even in the dim light, Babe could see a blush cross his pale face. 

“Okay,” Babe replied softly, his voice cracking a little. He cautiously ran a hand through the lower feathers of Eugene’s wing, marvelling at how they all lined up and overlapped each other perfectly. Eugene smiled a little. 

Dick seemed amused for some reason. 

Eventually, Babe got up to get ready for bed. With a huff of irritation, he realized that he had forgotten his bathroom bag in the car. Babe wandered out onto the porch, where Bill and Nixon sat, talking. Framed by the moonlight, Nixon was a study in black and white and silver. They both looked up as Babe trotted down the steps and walked over to the car. He shivered in the cold nighttime air. The cicadas rang loud and shrill in the dark. The house was the only source of light aside from the moon. Babe couldn’t help but feel that the woods were closing in around him. After retrieving his bag, Babe had to keep himself from running back to the warmth of the house. 

Babe got ready for bed in the downstairs bathroom. After weeks of motels, it was nice to have reliable plumbing and a fairly sanitary bathroom. Babe sent a quick thank you to whatever powers resided above that Nixon’s house was clean and welcoming and potentially a somewhat regular home for the three of them. 

Eugene was reading when Babe came into the room. Babe stretched out on his mattress. Eugene’s wings, because he was laying on his back, were extended and bridged the gap between their mattresses. Babe didn’t have a book to read, and he didn’t feel like pouring over one of Nixon’s tomes, so he simply laid back, staring at the ceiling. Thinking. All of the hustle and action of the past few weeks seemed to be catching up to him. It was nice to take a step back and let it all in. The man on the mattress next to him they had only met a week or so before. Nixon and Dick, Babe had only met earlier that day. Even Bill, Babe had only known him for two months. Or was it three? Christ, it felt like years since Babe joined hunter ranks. 

Eugene put his book aside and turned off the light. “Tell me a bedtime story?” Babe inquired, half serious, half teasing. 

“About what?” Eugene asked with a low laugh. 

Babe felt a little ridiculous for asking in the first place. “I don’t know, anything.” 

Eugene was silent in the dark for a long moment. Babe’s eyes slowly adjusted to the light of the moon coming in through the window. Eugene was silent for long enough that Babe wondered if he had gone to sleep. But then, in low tones, he spoke. “My grand-mère used to tell me this when I was little. Once upon a time, there was a catfish. Catfish, in case you don’t know, are mudsuckers. They are born, live, and die in the mud and muck. They’re not graceful or clean or really all that evolved. But one day, a catfish surfaced at night and laid eyes upon a star. And the star was so distant, so bright, so pure, that the catfish fell right in love right there.” At that, he faded into silence. 

“Well, then what happened?” Babe inquired. 

“I’m not sure,” Eugene answered softly. “I can’t really remember. I was real young the last time she told me that story.” 

“I guess you’ll just have to make up your own ending, I guess.” Babe said. 

“Yeah, I guess.” Eugene replied, the smile apparent in his voice. After a silence so long that Babe was almost asleep, Eugene said quietly, “I always hoped that the catfish and the star were somehow able to meet.” 

And Babe could just hum in agreement to that. 

 

\---

 

Dick was an incredible cook. The food he made was simple, but it worked incredibly well. He attributed it to his “simple American” background and a little creativity. “And love! The most important ingredient!” Nixon called in from the library, which Dick rolled his eyes at with a smile on his face. 

Babe was amazed at the easy way Dick and Nixon seemed to coexist. The way he coexisted with Bill was sometimes a clamoring thing. While they got along, there were spaces where they overlapped or didn’t meet at all. From what he had seen so far, Dick and Nixon fit together perfectly. There was an ease they seemed to permeate into the air around them. They would sit together in the evening, watching tv or stargazing from the porch. On the second night of their stay, Nixon fell asleep when he sat at Dick’s feet and Dick rubbed his head. Bill chuckled at Nixon’s eyes rolling back into his head as Dick’s long fingers wound through his dark hair. 

“I’m so glad you two found each other,” Bill said quietly, looking at fast-asleep Nixon.

“I’m so glad I found him too” Dick said, looking down at the man at his feet. 

“Nix and me go way back…he...” Bill seemed to struggle with his words for a moment. “I’ve seen him in some really dark times in his life.” His gaze turned up to Dick. “But I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so stable or happy in his life.” his voice was quiet with wonderment and appreciation. 

Dick was quiet for a long moment, his thin fingers slowly rubbing circles into Nixon’s scalp. When he spoke, he was quiet and somber. “He had a bad spell about a month back when he decided to end it all one night. It was after I found out what he...does for a living and I was in shock I guess and he slipped back into himself. Luckily I found him and was able to heal him with my Grace and we were able to figure it all out.” 

“Thank fuck.” Bill’s voice was quiet too. They both gazed down on Nixon, the man who hated himself at times yet was loved so deeply by so many. 

Even though Babe was busy falling asleep on Eugene’s shoulder on the couch, that conversation stayed with him. When he remembered it, he could practically hear the crackling fire and Nixon’s breaths as they made his chest rise and fall in his sleep. He could see the firelight that turned Dick absolutely golden; he was golden and his wings were deep red and his hair looked like the fire. Bill was in shadow, his face looked older than Babe remembered. Being a hunter tended to age you quickly. Babe remembered that conversation very well. 

Babe remembered another moment in particular. He was looking at a big calendar poster that Nixon had up, the kind that showed all 12 months at once. Babe was glancing over it and he saw a simple heart drawn in on August 27th. He asked Nixon what that was. Nixon smiled and said that he and Dick had chosen their anniversary together, because they couldn’t remember when they became ‘official’. Babe liked that a lot. 

Nixon and Dick showed them a small pond on their property, they said when it got warmer they could all go swimming in it. One night, Eugene made them all a classic Cajun meal that had all of them tearing up and sweating from the spice. Babe wiped tears from his eyes and turned to Eugene. “I thought we were friends” he said, adding a voice crack for dramatic effect. That night, they laughed and celebrated all being together. Babe and Eugene slept in their little room and more often than not, woke up tangled together on the floor in the space between their mattresses. Neither of them was upset by it. Babe liked the way Eugene looked in the morning, all sleepy with his hair sticking up all over the place. 

More than once, Babe wandered out to go to the bathroom in the early morning and he would see Dick out flying above the field. On a couple of occasions, Nixon would be on the porch with a cup of coffee, watching him dive and swoop gracefully. One time, Babe woke Eugene up and Eugene took to the skies next to Dick. Babe sat next to Nixon, who looked a little like a corpse. A happy corpse, though. Whenever he looked at Dick, he had crinkles around his eyes and he would smile a little bit. 

They didn’t exchange any words, they just sat and watched their angels in the cold air as the sun slowly rose over the forest. 

As they relaxed and developed a rhythm, Bill went into town a couple of times to raise funds. One day, he came back with a bag full of money. He said something about an ATM scam and Nixon just laughed and clapped him on the back. Whatever he did, it worked, and before too long, Bill said it was time to hit the road again. A hunter named Joe Toye called and said he needed some help with some hellhounds he found, so the three of them packed up and loaded all of their gear into the car. 

The goodbyes with Dick and Nixon weren’t bittersweet. They all knew they would all see each other, sooner rather than later. Nixon encouraged them not to be strangers and to always swing by if they were in the area. Bill thanked them for their hospitality. Dick hugged all of them goodbye, which surprised Babe a little bit. 

They left one gray and cloudy morning, on one of the first real cold fall mornings. Babe couldn’t help but feel like he was leaving home for boarding school. 

On the way, Bill explained that he and Joe went way back. They met as teens (they grew up in the same neighborhood) and both got into hunting by coincidence. Bill called Joe the “roughest, toughest sonofabitch the East Coast ever did see”, so naturally Babe was excited to meet him. They drove down back roads, refueling at a sketchy gas station about an hour away from Nixon’s house. They talked of nothing much as they drove on, Eugene gazed out the window. Babe made sure to make him stretch his wings whenever they stopped. He worried that they got cramped from being in one place for so long when he sat in the back seat. 

They got lunch at a McDonalds and dinner at a Taco Bell. Babe only felt a little sick to his stomach. They were driving through a quiet, dark, neighborhood when Eugene suddenly sat straight up and said, “Bill, stop the car.” 

“What? Are you--” 

“Pull over, now!” Eugene’s voice was forceful. It startled Babe. 

“Jesus Christ,” Bill muttered as he pulled the car over to the sidewalk. The streetlight above them was flickering. Eugene was out of the car before Bill even turned the engine off. He walked quickly up the leaf-strewn walk of the house in front of them. The lights were all off and the yard was overgrown with weeds; its residents were asleep and they had not been taking care of the outward appearance of their house. 

“Eugene, what the fuck?” Bill asked, as Eugene knocked on the door. He didn’t answer. Instead, he knocked again. Babe leaned against the car, feeling apprehensive. He saw a light turn on upstairs. 

“Eugene. What are you doing? What’s wrong with you?” Bill demanded, striding towards Eugene. Bill’s hand landed on Eugene’s shoulder and he tried to pull him away, but Eugene shrugged him off and knocked again. Babe turned around and pressed his forehead to the cool metal of the roof of the car. He shut his eyes, tight. Squeezed them shut hard enough to see stars flash underneath his eyelids. He could feel tension mounting, and he had no idea what was possessing Eugene to make him act so. The sudden change in behavior made him feel almost nauseous. 

The front door opened and a disgruntled figure stood, silhouetted by light in the doorway. “What do you want?” A man’s voice floated across the yard. He sounded tired. Tired in an immediate sense and also tired in a much larger sense. Babe walked closer. 

Eugene’s wings folded closed over his shoulders. He didn’t look any less certain. “Your daughter called out to me. She wants to use me as a vessel to communicate with you.” 

The man’s jaw clenched. Up close, Babe could see how deeply the lines on his face seemed to be etched, even though he looked fairly young. A woman appeared behind him. “Jonas? Who is it? What do they want?” 

Eugene leaned over to speak to her. “Hello, ma’am, my name is Eugene and your daughter wants to use me as a vessel to communicate with you.” 

Jonas turned and made eye contact with the woman. She began to gently cry. “Come in, come in,” she said, brushing past Jonas and pulling Eugene into the house by the sleeve of his jacket. Babe glanced at Bill. Bill nodded and they followed Eugene into the house. Babe closed the door behind them. 

“How is our daughter? What does she want to say? Is she talking to you right now?” the woman was frantically asking, pulling on Eugene’s sleeve. Tears were still freely running down her face. Jonas took the opportunity to get defensive. He had been following the pair, but he suddenly stepped in front of Eugene and pushed on his chest, gently. Babe felt anger rise quickly to the surface, and his hand twitched to punch the guy who dared touch Eugene. 

“Now listen, big guy, if you think this is funny to prey off of me and Clara in our darkest fucking hour, let me tell you--” 

“Sir, I am an angel. Spirits, souls, whatever you want to call them, can communicate with our Graces. Sometimes, we can even give our bodies over briefly so that certain spirits can finish any business left on Earth. So, if you’ll excuse me, your daughter wants to speak to you.” His voice was deep and commanding. All of the fight immediately drained from Jonas. Suddenly, he was just a sad man who had just lost a child. He stepped out of the way, and let Eugene lead. 

Eugene turned and walked up the stairs. His wings pulled away from his body until they were practically dragging on the stairs behind him. He didn’t hesitate, but immediately opened a door and went into a bedroom. Clara started crying in earnest. Babe took it that they were entering the deceased’s room. 

The room was empty, aside from a few boxes and a bed frame with no mattress. The walls were bare. Babe got the sense that it had been a while since this daughter passed. Eugene sat cross-legged on the floor and gestured for everyone else to sit as well. They kept the lights off. The parents sat on either side of Eugene, and Babe and Bill sat across from them. Eugene’s wings cast dramatic shadows on the wall behind him. 

Eugene held hands with both parents. The parents picked up Bill and Babe’s hands, and Babe and Bill held hands. “Now, I’m going to give myself over to her, but please keep in mind that once you say goodbye, that should be the last encounter, for a while, at least. I have a life to live and I can’t be a permanent vessel for her.” His voice was somber. Both parents nodded. 

“We understand,” Jonas said. His voice was somber too. 

“Then let’s begin,” Eugene uttered. He breathed deeply and closed his eyes. Silence filled the room. Then, he suddenly inhaled and his eyes shot open. They glowed the too-bright blue light of Eugene’s Grace. Then, slowly, the light turned white, and then silver. The muscles in Eugene’s face relaxed, shifted. He slouched a little. Carried himself differently. He turned to look at Jonas, then at Clara. Tears began to flow freely from his eyes. In the silver light, Babe could see them dripping off of his jaw. 

“Hey Dad. Hi Mom.” his voice was the same, but also different in a way Babe couldn’t describe. 

“Hi honey,” Jonas said, his voice cracking. 

“Hannah, is that you?” Clara asked. Babe could see that her knuckles were white where she gripped Eugene’s hand. 

“Yeah, mom, it’s me.” Eugene cleared his throat. “I wanted to tell you two that…” Eugene looked up, tears flowing freely. “I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry to all the grief that I caused you two.” 

“Oh honey…” Clara breathed. “You’re our daughter, we could only ever love you.” 

Babe felt tears spring to his eyes. Eugene’s brow knotted. He stopped crying. “R-really?” he asked. 

“Hannah, as parents, it is our job and our pleasure to love you. You were our greatest joy in life,” Jonas sobbed. 

Eugene’s face contorted. “Mom, Dad, I don’t want to be here anymore. Where I’m going next...it’s a good place.” 

“We love you so so so much,” Clara sobbed. 

Eugene suddenly turned all of his focus to Clara. “Promise me that you’ll keep on living, you’ll have more kids, and you won’t both kill yourselves to see me,” 

Clara looked startled. “I-I promise.” Eugene turned to Jonas and he promised as well. 

“Okay, I’ll be holding you to that,” Eugene said. The silver light in his eyes flickered. “I’m gonna go now, but I’ll see you two again, many years from now, okay?” Both of his parents nodded. “I love you, Mom and Dad.” Eugene said. Then his head cast back and he exhaled the pure silver light into the air. It hung in the middle of their circle, illuminating all of their faces, before it escaped through the open window and out into the night. All of them except Eugene watched it leave with bated breath. 

The silver light that was Hannah’s soul was gone and Babe became aware of Eugene, the real Eugene, again. He was keeled forward. “Gene!” Babe shouted, diving forward. He caught Eugene before he fell, awkwardly cradling his face. “Hey, hey, hey, wake up, okay?” Babe said. Eugene’s eyes had rolled back into his head. He was still breathing, though. Babe shook him lightly, and the blue light flooded throughout his body once more. Babe had to look away, it was so bright. When it dimmed, he looked into Eugene’s icy blue eyes and all he could see was how much the whole ordeal had drained the angel. 

Babe, without thinking, pulled Eugene into a close hug. Eugene’s arms slowly came up to Babe’s back. They pulled apart when Jonas and Clara pulled them back to reality. 

“Thank you...thank you so much,” Clara choked out through her sobs. Jonas was likewise affected, but he stayed silent. 

“It was...no problem, ma’am.” Eugene responded. “Her soul called out to me, clearer than a whistle.” 

They all stood. Babe pulled Eugene to his feet. “Is there any way we can repay you?” Jonas asked. 

Eugene shook his head. “No, sir. Just keep your home open to us if we ever pass through again,” 

“Of course, of course,” Clara said. Bill and Babe quietly made their way back downstairs and out the front door. Bill got in the driver’s seat and Babe leaned against the car, looking back at the house. Eugene stood, wings taking up more room than Clara and Jonas combined, talking to the couple. They both hugged him, before he descended the stairs and they went on their way, back to an empty nest. 

Eugene’s eyes met Babe’s as he walked closer. Babe felt his heart pull when he saw how tired Eugene was, and how much the whole ordeal had affected him. “C’mere.” Babe choked out. He pulled Eugene into a tight hug, one that pressed them together from the knees to their chests. They stood like that for a long moment, feeling each other breathe and feeling their pulses beat in their chests. 

“Do you feel back in your body?” Babe asked quietly. 

Eugene shook his head. “It always takes me a few days to come back all the way.” His voice was reserved. 

“Jesus, how many times have you done something like that?” Babe asked, pulling away and opening the car door for Eugene. They both slid into the back seat. 

“This was my...5th time.” Eugene said. There were bags under his eyes when his face was in shadow. 

Babe pressed close to him. He twined their fingers together and squeezed, very tightly. He pulled Eugene’s head down and pressed a kiss to his temple. He was overwhelmed by the protective and grateful emotions he was feeling. He didn’t speak; he felt that Eugene knew exactly what he was feeling. 

Bill turned the key in the ignition and they quietly left the neighborhood. They didn’t speak at all after that. Words just didn’t feel right. The night didn’t feel real in the slightest, when Babe recalled it. Babe fell asleep with Eugene’s hand in his and Eugene’s head resting on his shoulder. The night had drained them far more than they were all willing to admit. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> get ready for angst lol


	4. Lakehurst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joe Toye and George Luz need help hunting some hellhounds. Bill and Babe and Gene are happy to oblige.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay I originally said 'get ready for angst' at the end of last chapter and this chapter ended up being a lot longer than expected so I'm breaking it into two chapters. I also went back and fixed a lot of small grammatical errors in the first chapter (I originally wrote it in the present tense and when fixing it, forgot some or incorrectly conjugated some tenses because I was moving fast. Anyway, that should all be fixed now.)  
> Also Lakehurst is a real place but I have no idea what it's like

Joe Toye and George Luz had (quite inexplicably) found themselves living in the Garden State. New Jersey was small and crowded and loud, but Joe and Luz had found a small apartment in rural Lakehurst, NJ. As Bill drove, he explained how he and Joe Toye had been best friends in high school. They had grown up in the same town, and only really became close in their sophomore year. Bill had lost his family to the supernatural, and had picked up hunting as his passion and interest. Joe had been with him every step of the way, and had also gotten into hunting. 

“Why isn’t he here with you now?” Gene asked quietly, gazing out the window at the mixture of greenery and houses they passed. 

Babe saw Bill glance back at Gene through the rearview mirror. “Me ‘n’ Joe, you know, we’re thick as thieves. We run similarly, and we used to hunt together all the time, but there are cases that only require one of us. We can sometimes split up and handle two cases in the time it would take to handle one.”

Bill grew quiet for a moment, as he slowed to stop at a red light. Babe was playing with his butterfly knife, trying to do cool tricks and flips. He had picked it up somewhere in Pennsylvania, and while it was a good knife, it was also fun to play with. The light turned green and Bill sped up, getting back to cruising speed. He began to talk again. “About a year ago, he met up with George Luz, and the two have been stuck at the hip ever since.” Bill smiled. “I like Luz a lot, and I think you boys will too. He’s a real jokester, that man. Goddamn funniest hunter in the business. Great impersonations, too.

I guess the two of us are just branching out right now. Joe’s been running with Luz, and I’ve picked up you two…” he took his right hand off the wheel and tousled Babe’s hair. 

“Hey!” Babe protested, dropping his knife and attempting to fight Bill off. Bill laughed, then, and reached back to do the same to Gene. 

“Eyes on the road, Bill,” Gene said around a small smile. Babe liked seeing Eugene smile. He wished the young man would smile more. Ever since using his body as a vessel for the spirit of Hannah to speak to her parents, he had been quiet and withdrawn. Babe had made sure to look out for him, whether that be by making sure he always ate plenty, or making sure he got enough sleep. More often than not, Eugene and Babe had been sharing a bed when they slept in a motel. Babe liked that arrangement. He liked being close to Eugene, he liked the way Eugene smelled. He liked how peaceful Eugene looked while sleeping, he liked the way Eugene’s eyelashes fanned out against his cheek while he was asleep. Despite the sleep, Eugene always seemed to have bags under his eyes. He always seemed to be yawning and close to falling asleep. Babe wondered how long it would be before those were gone for good. 

The night before, Babe had woken up in the middle of the night. They were sleeping in a motel, and the cheap bedside clock read 3:43. All was dark in the room. Babe could hear Bill’s deep breathing in the bed across from them. Babe then realized that his back was colder than it should have been. Generally Gene was there, and though they didn’t necessarily cuddle (on purpose), Gene ran warm and he made any bed warmer than if it was just Babe sleeping there. 

Babe pushed himself up onto his forearms and looked around. The staff had put them on the upper floor, and they had a balcony that looked over the pool. Moonlight spilled from the sliding glass door. Babe could see Gene’s winged figure standing out there, leaning forward on the railing. His wings were relaxed, tilting downward. He had to keep them close to his body so much of the day, he stretched them out whenever he could. He looked like a statue, cast into black and white and outlined in silver by the moonlight. 

Babe rose and quietly padded to the door. He slipped out into the cool autumn air. Babe was just in boxers and a t-shirt, and the air caused goosebumps to form on the skin on his arms and legs. Gene turned, silhouetted by the moonlight, to see Babe. A ghost of a smile crossed his face. The cold winter air brought the cloying scent of cigarettes to Babe. He glanced down to where Gene was moving his thumb across the end. “Can’t sleep?” he asked, leaning against the rail. He pressed his arm against Gene’s and marveled at the warmth that sprang between them. 

Gene shook his head. He took another drag. He held the smoke for a long moment, before exhaling it into the cold wind. It was gone in a second, far too fast for Babe to breathe any of it in. The silence was not taken away by the wind. It hung between them, uninvited but not unwelcome. Babe was about to ask something else when Gene extended his cigarette to Babe. Babe leaned forward and took a small drag while Gene was still holding it. He exhaled fast, but enjoyed the hit of nicotine that coursed through his body. 

Gene took another drag. Held it. Exhaled it. They watched the smoke disappear in front of them. He finally spoke, so quietly and in such a low tone that Babe almost missed it. “I remember too much.” Gene was staring up at the moon. 

Babe pressed closer against Gene to combat the cold of the wind and to provide some support to Gene. Babe waited for Gene to continue. “I remember every single shitty thing my ex did to me.” His voice broke then, and Babe felt his heart break along with it. He leaned his head on Gene’s shoulder, pushing as much positive energy he could towards Gene. He cared so deeply for the man, he wanted Gene to feel how much he cared and how Babe would never, not in a million years, hurt Gene in the ways that his girlfriend had hurt him. Gene dropped his shoulder and leaned his head against Babe’s. Gene’s wing came up and wrapped around Babe’s shoulders. Babe sighed with relief as the cold wind was no longer an issue. Gene’s wing provided ample protection from it. 

“Sometimes,” Gene said, taking one final drag before stubbing his cigarette out on the banister, “those memories are too much.” He crossed his arms and looked down at the ashes he left on the balcony. 

Babe had too many things to say. He was angry and sad that someone would ever hurt Gene, he was so loving of Gene, and he wanted to say a lot of things about all of those. Instead, he settled on a question. 

“Is there anything I can do to help with that?” he asked, reaching out and grabbing Eugene’s hand with his own. In the daytime, there was an invisible wall between them that kept their physical interaction to fairly friendly, fairly modest gestures. A hand on an arm, a hand on a shoulder, sometimes an arm around a shoulder or a hug. But the contact never lasted. It always left when the sun was shining. At night, things were looser. Babe felt comfortable leaning his head on Eugene’s shoulder, he felt comfortable holding hands with him and pressing closer under the covers. Maybe it was because they hadn’t talked about their relationship. It was obvious there was something between them, but Babe was fine for the moment with the ambiguous, unnamed  _ thing  _ that was their relationship. Babe didn’t need labels. 

Eugene rubbed his thumb against Babe’s knuckle. “What you’re doing right now.” Eugene said. Babe’s mind flashed over all of the things he was doing in the moment. Eugene seemed to be able to read his mind. He chuckled. “Sending me your love. It heals and charges my Grace, which helps me feel better overall.” 

“You can really feel that?” Babe asked, sending a surge of affection towards Gene. 

Gene nodded and squeezed Babe’s hand in response. “All of it.” 

They stood in silence under the moon for a moment, just sharing the moment. “Wanna go back to bed?” Babe finally asked. Gene nodded. Babe led Eugene back inside and they curled up together under the covers. Before falling asleep, Babe whispered, “Gene, you still awake?” Gene grunted in reply. Babe whispered, “How many cigarettes do you have left?”

“Two.” the answer was whispered back. Babe felt a sort of relief wash through him. Two cigarettes to sobriety. Babe remembered that they fell asleep still holding hands. 

Babe recalled the previous night fondly as Bill took the exit into Lakehurst. Of course, Babe and Gene hadn’t talked about the night before. They had simply gotten up together, loaded up the car, and gotten on the road. Babe supposed it wasn’t the healthiest practice to not talk about their relationship, but it was certainly easier to leave their relationship in the dark than to talk about it. 

Lakehurst was a quiet town, especially compared to the freeway. They passed small businesses, which were interrupted by quiet, nearly empty strip malls and Wal-Marts. Bill had Babe pull up directions to Joe and Luz’s apartment. Their apartment was in a fairly empty neighborhood. Their building only had three or four apartments, as was apparent from the mailboxes out front. Nevertheless, the building was in good condition, Babe noted as Bill pulled up to the curb. 

Babe saw the blinds upstairs twitch, and as they got out of the car, the front door flew open. Two men descended upon Bill like flies on a fresh roast left out in the sun. One was tall and had dark hair. He was wearing a tank top and had broad, muscular shoulders. His eyes were large and dark. The other was smaller, but could have only been a couple inches shorter than the other. He had light hair and twinkling eyes and a shit eating grin. “Well, if it isn’t ol’ Gonorrhea!” the first one called as he playfully shoved Bill back into the street. His voice had an interesting rasp to it. 

“Bill, you have gonorrhea?” Babe called, laughing and glancing at Gene. Gene looked shocked and a little surprised and confused and amused by the situation, all at the same time. 

“Aw, shaddap Joe!” Bill laughed, shoving the dark haired man away. Bill pulled him into a hug then. “It’s good to see ya, buddy. It’s been too long.” He clapped him on the shoulder and moved onto the other man. “Luz! Fuck you for laughing at that, bring it in.” Bill pulled the other man into a hug. He pulled back and asked, “You been keepin’ an eye on ‘ol Brass Knuckles here?” 

“Well, Bill, I got two of them for a reason!” and the two men burst into laughter then. Babe glanced at Gene and smiled. He knew they would have a good time under Joe and Luz’s roof. 

Joe approached Babe and Gene. “Joe Toye. Pleasure.” he said in his raspy voice. He shook their hands and introductions were made. Bill and Luz wandered over as Joe asked, “So, where are you boys from?” 

“Well, I’m from South Philly, and Gene is from Louisiana.” 

Joe nodded and seemed to approve. “Well, welcome to the family.” He spread his arms then, encompassing his apartment and the patch of grass out front that they were standing on. 

Luz butted in, then. “Come on upstairs, dinner is almost ready. Can I take your bags?” They handed Luz some duffel bags and the five of them made their way upstairs. Joe and Luz’s apartment was at the top of a flight of narrow stairs. They made their way up and Joe unlocked a simple door at the top. Immediately the smell of red sauce overpowered Babe, and he felt his stomach rumble accusingly. He hadn’t had anything to eat since that morning, when they ate cereal in the lobby of the motel. A homemade pasta meal sounded delightful to Babe. 

While Joe finished making dinner, Luz showed them around. There was a living room with a couch and two chairs and a TV. Branching off of that was a hallway that had two bedrooms: Joe’s and Luz’s. Babe was somewhat surprised that the two of them weren’t a couple. From what he had seen of the hunter community, hunters tended to date hunters. Luz explained that to accommodate all of them, he and Joe would be sharing a room and Bill could take Luz’s bed. He showed them where the bathroom was: “Only one, sorry. We’re on the road all of the time and there are only two of us, so simple digs work best for us.” 

Luz showed Babe and Gene the office, which was sparse. There was a bookshelf with a handful of books and a futon on the floor. Luz explained that one of them could take the futon and the other could take the couch in the living room. They dropped their stuff off in the office and went back to the kitchen. Joe had a dish towel slung over one shoulder, and he was putting the final touches on their meal. 

They sat down at the table and dug into their meal. Joe was a fine cook and while he was no Dick Winters, his cooking was delicious and every man at the table had at least 3rd helpings. Between Joe, Luz, and Bill, the group was a rowdy bunch. Luz was always cracking jokes and laughing and Joe was setting him off and Bill was involving Babe and Babe felt himself getting loud too. While Nixon and Dick’s farmhouse was a dry one, liquor flowed freely at Chez Toye/Luz. Bill and Joe and Luz drank heavier stuff, while Babe kept himself fairly sober. Gene had a beer and Babe reveled in the pink blush that rose to Gene’s pale cheeks. He looked good with some color under his skin. Bill and Joe and Luz settled in and recounted many tales of hunts long gone. They made Babe feel like a green newbie, listening to them talk about the demons they had exorcised, the ghosts they had banished, the other supernatural beings that they had hunted and controlled. 

“Last month, ol’ Nixon and none other than Harry Welsh and Kitty fuckin’ Grogan hunted a wendigo!” Bill would say. 

“No way!” or “Bullshit!” Joe and Luz would exclaim at the same time. 

Their friendship made Babe happy. These friends went back a long time, and the bonds that had formed while they hunted the things that lurked in the shadows were unbreakable. They all stayed up late, drinking and playing darts and telling stories. Bill was right, Luz’s impersonations were spot on. He had Gene and Babe in stitches over his impersonation of Bill that involved shoving his bottom jaw forward and puffing his chest out. Bill, for some reason, wasn’t quite so amused. Finally, they dismissed the visitors. “You all get some rest, tomorrow we’ll talk about what the fuck we’re hunting together.” Joe rasped. Babe and Gene, who felt left out of the conversations, didn’t need another opportunity. They went to the bathroom and brushed their teeth side by side. Babe let Gene have the futon, but he stayed in the office to read while Bill and Joe and Luz were still in the kitchen. 

Gene relaxed on his futon. He looked sleepy and happy and a little drunk. “It’s been such a long time since I’ve drank.” he admitted quietly, to Babe and to the ceiling. 

Babe put a bookmark in his book and set it aside. “Any reason you haven’t?” he asked, worried the answer had something to do with Gene’s ex. 

Gene glanced at Babe before looking back up at the ceiling. “I don’t like to let my guard down, I guess.” 

Babe felt a thrill go through him at the thought that he and Bill and Joe and Luz were special enough to have Gene let his guards down. He smiled a little bit. Eventually, Babe got up and left to settle into the couch, but when he did, he couldn’t help but feel lonely, going to sleep without Gene. 

 

Dick was an early riser. Nixon rose early to see Dick during his favorite time of the day. At Casa Nixon, everyone pretty much rose early. Things were different with Joe and Luz. Joe Toye and George Luz were not early risers. Babe woke up around 8, when the light from the windows streamed in and pleasantly awoke him. All was quiet in the apartment. Babe got dressed, brushed his teeth, and texted Bill that he was going to take a walk. He quietly left Joe and Luz’s apartment and walked out, intending to circle the block. The air was crisp and chilly and it invigorated him to be out in it, walking around. The neighborhood was simple and quiet by that time. Babe noticed people getting into cars, about to head off to work. He walked until he found a small grocery shop. Luckily, he had remembered to bring his wallet. Babe bought a loaf of good sourdough bread and a gallon of orange juice. 

He carried the groceries back to the apartment, and by the time he got back, the rest of the boys were up. Bill opened the door for him and welcomed him in. It appeared as if everyone had just gotten up. Luz was sitting on the counter, clutching a mug of coffee, as Joe was just turning on the stove to make pancakes or eggs or something. Babe presented his groceries and was greeted with Joe’s sleepy smile. “This kid is okay, Bill,” he called to Bill, who was examining a book in the other room. 

“I think I’ll keep him around for a while, Joe.” Bill called back. Bill asked when they would get to know about the hellhounds that Joe had talked about, and Joe assured them he would tell them about the case after breakfast. Gene wandered out, wings dragging behind him. He saw Babe and sent him a sleepy smile. Babe returned it. Babe saw Bill send Joe a knowing look, and Babe shot Bill the bird in response. Luz laughed out loud at the silent exchange. 

Joe made bacon and eggs and toast for everyone there, and they dug into a hearty breakfast. After the table was cleared, everyone left to get dressed and get ready for the day. Babe was already dressed, so he just waited while the other four got ready. They all reconvened at the table, where Joe dropped a journal on the table. 

“Do you know what this is?” he rasped. Babe thought he knew. Bill had a similar one. He nodded, but luckily it was a rhetorical question, because Joe had started to explain anyway. “I’ve been keeping this journal ever since I started hunting. It’s a record of every single sonofabitch that I’ve hunted. It’s also a reference for me, on how to kill different things. Salt, for example, will hurt a ghost or a demon, but not a djinn.” 

He flipped to a bookmarked page and turned it around. There were pictures and drawings of black dogs with red eyes. Their edges were fuzzy, as if they were made of shadow. The photos were grainy or infrared, but the drawings were fairly detailed. Two different sets of handwriting (Joe’s and Luz’s, presumably) were scrawled in the corners and the margins. “Hellhounds are used as personal attack dogs of reaper demons.” Joe said, passing the book to Gene to look over. 

“Basically, when someone sells their soul to the devil, mostly to gain fame or to become someone great, they have 10 years to live. And then, after 10 years exactly, a reaper demon will come and try to harvest your soul. The hellhounds are there for intimidation, but if you don’t comply, the reaper will sicc his hellhounds on you to rip you to shreds so that the reaper can easily harvest your soul.” Luz leaned back in his chair and tucked his hands behind his head. 

Joe nodded. “Our client is Eliza McNeely. In 2 days, it will have been 10 years exactly since she sold her soul in order to make sure her restaurant would be the best and the most popular in all of Newark. Now, she wants to resist fate, and she hired us to try and protect her from her reaper and her hellhounds.” 

“Jesus fucking Christ Joe, I didn’t know we were in on a suicide mission!” Bill protested, looking over the journal. “I don’t know of anyone who’s escaped a reaper and their hellounds.” 

Joe shrugged. “She paid up front, and the agreement is that we protect her this one time. Say we manage to kill the reaper and dissuade the hellhounds from Eliza. By the way,” he turned to Babe and Eugene, “once a hellhound has your soul’s scent and has the order to sicc, he never forgets it. He will hunt you down for years, if that’s what it takes.” Babe gulped. Suddenly the situation seemed very serious to Babe. 

“Say we manage to save Eliza this time,” Joe continued. “If whoever runs hell sends another reaper, we won’t protect her from that one. For one, we have no idea when the next demon could come, or how many hellhounds they’ll bring.” He glanced at Luz. Luz looked determined. “We want to help her, but we have to keep ourselves from the worst of it at some point.” 

Bill passed the journal to Babe. Babe looked at the drawing with the glowing eyes. He recognized it from somewhere. In only an instant, he knew where from, and a chill went through his body. He nudged Gene. “Hey Gene, this looks like the shapeshifter we killed down in Fallow’s Cve.” 

Gene leaned and looked over Babe’s shoulder at the journal. His blue eyes were quick and calculating, and they flooded with recognition. “Yeah, it sure does. I think it’s the red eyes and black fur.” He nodded slowly. “Yeah, that certainly looks like the thing.” 

“Wait a minute, you two have dealt with a shapeshifter before?” Luz sounded incredulous and a bit misbelieving. He glanced at Joe, who glanced at Bill, who nodded. Luz looked impressed. 

“Back in Louisiana, there was one of those fuckin’ things livin’ down in a cave. It knocked me out, but Babe and Gene were able to kill it.” Bill said, leaning back in his chair. 

“I’m able to use my Grace to get inside and harm things,” Gene said it quietly, guiltily. “I don’t like to do it, but sometimes I have to. The...thing, shapeshifter, I guess, it was about to kill Babe.” he glanced at Babe and Babe swallowed. “So I did what I had to do.” 

One thing Babe had noticed about Gene was that even though his voice was quiet, whenever he spoke, everyone around them became completely silent. They listened to Eugene with respect and dignity. Joe nodded slowly. “Eugene, you have every right to do whatever it is you need to fucking do to protect the people you care about.” He laid a hand on the back of Luz’s chair and a hand on the back of Bill’s chair. The gesture was clear to Babe, and it sent a chill down his spine. Joe Toye was willing to do anything to protect his two best friends, and God help any man or beast that tried to get in his way. 

Joe then laid out the plan for Bill and Babe and Eugene: they were to meet the woman on her farm in two days time, sometime in the evening. She knew the reaper would come for her at midnight. They would go to her barn, where they would wait for the reaper. Once it showed up, they would try and exorcise the demon in order to get the hellhounds to give up the attack. Without a master, they usually ceased attacking. Meanwhile, it was decided then and there, Eugene would try to keep the hellhounds off of Eliza. The four hunters would load up on holy water, salt, and iron, to try and keep the reaper distracted. If Eliza was killed and her soul was harvested, the four hunters were to make her death look like a disappearance. They were to either burn her body or bury it where no one would find it. Then, they were to leave as quickly and as stealthily as possible. They didn’t want to be charged with murder. If they managed to keep the hellhounds off and keep Eliza alive, then their job was done and they were to bid her farewell. 

Babe spent the next couple of hours packing iron and salt shotgun shells in preparation for the showdown. Bill took him aside and drilled the common exorcism chant into him. He paced about, having Babe repeat the Latin phrases over and over and over. Then, he had Babe say whole lines. The words were awkward and unfamiliar in Babe’s mouth, and Bill seemed to get annoyed as Babe kept messing up. Finally, Bill turned to Babe and got very serious. “Babe, this fucking thing is the biggest hunt we’ve ever done. Hell, it’s one of my biggest hunts ever. Now, you getting yourself fucking killed is not worth saving a woman who sold her fucking soul to the goddamn devil. So, I want everything to be as safe and as foolproof as possible. No fuck-ups. Period. So repeat the exorcism again.” 

As Babe repeated and repeated the exorcism, Bill’s words rang in his head. He knew that what they were about to do was dangerous, very dangerous. Babe didn’t want any of them to get hurt, but he also knew that if any of the others got hurt, Babe would not leave their side until he was killed. There was no way in Hell that Babe would ever leave his friends in their time of need. Bill had become family to him, he was like an older brother to Babe. When Babe had lost Julian and his family to the monsters in the world, Bill was there with a guiding hand and a tough love sort of attitude. He showed Babe purpose in a life that had looked meaningless. And so, by extension, Bill’s family of hunters had become Babe’s family of hunters. Babe knew he would die for Joe or Luz or Dick or Nixon or, hell, even any of the guys he had yet to meet. 

And Eugene… Babe knew that as long as he was alive, no man, thing, or monster should ever even fucking try to touch Babe’s angel. Babe would hunt down every last monster on the earth before a scratch came to Eugene’s pale skin. 

Babe just hoped he was able to live up to his dedications. 

 

\---

 

The following two days passed with little circumstance. The boys would spend most of the day making preparations for Eliza’s reckoning. Every evening, they would drink and be rowdy and eat good food and reminisce together. Luz, while slightly intoxicated, quizzed Gene about his background. Gene revealed that once upon a time, he was a med school student and was only a few credits from graduating. “You hear that, Joe, we got a Doc on our hands!” Luz shouted. Since that night, Joe and Bill and Luz had called Eugene pretty much exclusively Doc. 

The nickname was only solidified when, after Joe tried to teach him a fancy butterfly knife trick and Babe slipped and cut himself in front of everyone, Gene unthinkingly reached out and took Babe’s hand in his own. Babe couldn’t help but gasp as the static under his skin returned, stitching the skin back together and leaving the skin flawlessly smooth underneath. Gene gently passed his thumb over the top, and smiled in a soft, gentle way up at Babe. “All better,” he said in his deep, Cajun tones, and when Babe looked up, every single other person at the table was staring at them, jaw dropped. Gene then had to spend the next half an hour answering questions about his Grace and how it worked. 

Joe and Luz had grown to quite like Eugene, and they didn’t miss the small smile that came to Gene’s face when he was called by his new nickname. Babe still preferred the name Gene, though. 

Another night, Joe and Luz put some music on, and jokingly started to slow dance in their kitchen. Babe exchanged a raised eyebrow will Bill, who shrugged. The next morning, as Babe came into consciousness on the couch, he heard Bill and Joe talking in the kitchen. 

“So you’re telling me that you and George fucking Luz aren’t together?” Bill asked, sounding suspicious. 

“I’m not shitting you, Bill.” Joe’s voice was even more gravelly in the morning. “I really like him as a person, and I would fucking die for him, but nothing romantic or sexual has ever happened between us.” He paused, and said more quietly, “Shit.”

Bill was quiet for so long that Babe almost fell back asleep. He felt energy course through his body when Bill asked, “Do you want there to be?” 

He felt a weird sort of adrenaline when Joe’s very quiet, raspy answer came back: “Yeah.” 

“Well, shit.” Bill said with a sigh. 

So. Luz and Toye were apparently not a couple, but for all intents and purposes, acted like a couple and were close enough to be a couple. It didn’t help that Luz was a clingy morning person and, more often than not, ended up hugging Joe from behind as Joe tried to cook breakfast. Babe relayed that to Eugene as he ran his fingers through Eugene’s feathers. They were relaxing on Eugene’s futon, spending time together before the big showdown, but both not acknowledging the fact that these could be some of their last hours together. 

“They’ll figure it out,” Gene said, eyes slipping closed in pleasure as Babe scratched a spot that Eugene couldn’t easily reach. “...eventually.” 

A feather fell out of his wing and Babe plucked it out and twirled it around his finger. It was a primary feather, strong and dark as Gene’s hair. When Babe held it up to the light, he caught hints of reds and lighter tones in the seemingly very dark fibers. Eugene opened his eyes and sat up. “Here,” he said, plucking the feather from Babe’s hands. 

He cupped the feather in his pale hands and Babe watched with wonder and curiosity as Gene’s eyes began to softly glow with the pale blue light of his Grace. He said some words in a language that was not of this earth, which sent a chill down Babe’s spine. Then, Eugene blew softly into the feather, a twinkling, pale blue stream of what appeared to be mist flowing out of his mouth and adhering to the feather. The feather twinkled pale blue for a moment, and then as the pale blue light faded from Eugene’s eyes, it also faded from the feather. The feather now appeared to be a normal one of Eugene’s dark feathers. 

Eugene twisted to open his bag, where he dug around for a moment. Finally, he pulled out some string and a knife and he tied it around the feather. Next, he set the ends together and tied them around one another, so that the length of the necklace could be adjusted. He held it up to Babe to demonstrate. Next, he carefully placed it over Babe’s head and let it settle around his neck. Babe could have been imagining it, but suddenly he felt some kind of...aura, or something, flow over his body. Suddenly he could feel Gene’s feathers under his fingers, he could smell Gene’s scent, he could perfectly see Gene’s Grace as it emanated from his body. He looked down and the feather was glowing in the same way. Then, he blinked, and Gene looked normal and the feather looked normal. 

Babe looked at Gene in wonderment. Gene smiled and looked down, almost bashfully. “For your protection,” he said. “I put a tiny part of my Grace into that feather, and laid an Enochian blessing on it. It won’t stop much, but if we are ever apart, it will be like a piece of me is here, protecting and healing you.” 

Babe felt tears suddenly spring to his eyes. He felt an overwhelming rush of love and gratitude to the man in front of him, the man that had suffered so much and asked for so little in return. He surged forward and pulled Gene into a bone-crushing hug. He came on so fast that Gene toppled backward, and they fell back on the bed. But Babe could feel Gene’s strong hands and forearms lock around his middle and press him in, tight. Babe felt hot tears stream out of the corner of his eyes and he pressed his face into the crook of Gene’s neck, smelling nothing but Eugeneugeneugeneugene and feeling like he was standing in a warm summer shower. 

“Fuck, I love you so fucking much.” Babe squeezed out, burying his face into Gene’s chest and trying not to cry. 

One of Gene’s hands left Babe’s back and started to card through Babe’s soft red hair. “I love you, too.” came the quiet, honest admission. Babe could swear Gene’s voice cracked and sounded rough as he admitted it. 

That night, instead of returning to the couch, Babe decided to sleep with Eugene on the futon. If he was to die, he wanted his last night to be a good one. He wanted to be pressed up to Eugene, hearing the rhythmic sounds of his breath and feeling the way Eugene’s chest rose and fell underneath Babe’s hands. 

Babe prayed that night as he brushed his teeth next to Eugene. He prayed for the first time since leaving the Catholic church. That night, as Eugene curled up next to him, and his breaths began to even out to a steady rhythm, Babe prayed,  _ Please dear Lord keep him safe. I don’t care what you have to do, I can’t stand to lose him. Please give us just one night to simply be together _ . 

Babe got his night. 

Unfortunately, the next night, the 10th anniversary of when Eliza McNeely sold her soul to the devil, was to play out very differently. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol NOW get ready for angst


	5. Höllenhund

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Babe and co. try to postpone a day of reckoning. Sh*t hits the fan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol  
> also: now this work is officially longer than Bullet Holes and Rosaries! Wow!  
> also: big, big, big, huge thank you to everyone who likes this and comments to keep me going. this chapter wouldn't be here without y'all.

The day of the 10th anniversary of Eliza McNeely selling her soul to the devil was incredibly somber. Joe, Bill, and Luz talked less. Joked less. Let the silence yawn between them at the breakfast table. Babe and Gene caught on to the melancholic air and Babe didn’t think he heard Gene speak more than 10 words that day. 

Instead of talking, they prepared. Each man packed his pockets with salt and iron shavings. Every shotgun was loaded and Bill made sure Babe had the exorcism perfectly memorized. Babe watched Luz bathe knives and regular bullets in holy water while saying a prayer over them. Babe caught Gene turning a string of rosary beads over in his hand, lips barely moving in silent prayer. 

Babe tightened his feather necklace so that it couldn’t possibly slip off of his head. 

Finally, there wasn’t anything more that any of them could do. They ate a small dinner, as no one really had an appetite. Bill, Joe, Gene, and babe all piled into the Charger. Luz decided it was too crowded, and he walked a motorcycle out of the garage. As the clock struck 9 pm, they left on their way to Eliza’s farm. It was a good two hour ride, and by the time they arrived, a lot of the nerves had worn off of Babe. The drive was long enough and boring enough that he had had time to turn everything over in his mind a hundred times. They were probably going to be fine. 

Eliza McNeely’s farm was dark aside from a single light in the kitchen window. As they pulled up, a woman stepped out of the house, silhouetted in the open door. Joe and Luz approached first. They shook hands with her, acquainted themselves. They introduced Bill and babe and Gene to Eliza. 

Eliza McNeely was a blonde woman in maybe her mid thirties. Her curly hair was pulled up into a ponytail, and her steel-gray eyes were cold and calculating. She was short with her words and to the point. She looked like the type of person to sell their soul to the devil and then hire professional hunters to prolong her day of reckoning. 

Eliza wasted no time in small talk. Almost immediately, she requested a weapon from Luz, who gave her one of the knives he had bathed in holy water. As they made their way out to the barn, Joe explained the plan to her again, the one that included Gene and Babe and Bill. The night air was cold, and Babe’s feet got wet from the dew on the ground. He pulled down closer into his jacket, and saw Gene pull his wings tight around his shoulders. The moon had been waning, and only the tiniest curved sliver was visible through the clouds that covered the night sky. 

Babe felt apprehensive all of the sudden. There was a very real chance that all 6 of them could die that night. 

He tried to put it out of his mind. 

They reached the barn. It was red, with chipped paint. Eliza set her knife down in order to pull the heavy door open. She nudged a rock in front of it to keep it open. Then, she clicked on a flashlight, and walked inside. 

The barn was almost completely empty. A dusty tractor sat in one corner, and a stack of hay bales in another. Next to the tractor was a shell of an old muscle car, missing all of its wheels. It was propped up on cement blocks, a project that its owner would likely never finish. Instead of a proper floor, the barn had packed dirt. It was slightly warmer inside the barn than outside of it. As Babe’s eyes adjusted, Eliza went around and lit several kerosene lamps, which she set on the floor. Per Joe’s instruction, she sat on the ground in the middle of the barn and Joe poured a thick ring of salt around her. Then, being careful not to smudge the first, he poured another. Eliza steeled her face and gripped her knife tighter. 

Babe looked and saw Gene lean up against the old muscle car. He groped in his jacket pocket for a moment, before taking out a battered pack of cigarettes. Babe moved and Gene looked up as he approached. Babe leaned against the car next to Gene, taking the movement as an excuse to press into his side. Any contact, no matter how small, was important to Babe. 

Gene had opened the pack of cigarettes and placed one between his lips. He fumbled for a lighter, before finally coming up empty. He reached up to take the cigarette out of his mouth, but Babe said “Wait.” Gene turned, and Babe fumbled in his pockets, before they finally caught on the plain green Zippo he carried more out of habit than necessity. That thing had been with him since he quit smoking, and it carried some sentimental value to Babe. 

Gene crossed his arms and shuffled so that he was facing towards Babe. Babe flicked the lighter and a small, wavering flame appeared. Babe leaned forward and cupped his hand around the cigarette to protect it from the cool draft that threatened to kill the small flame. He lit the end of Gene’s cigarette, and Gene cautiously blew smoke into the small space they had created between them. Gene looked up at Babe and they caught eyes for a long moment. Babe’s feather suddenly felt heavy around his neck. 

Then, Bill cussed as he unearthed a dead rat behind one of the hay bales, and the moment was broken. Babe and Gene shuffled back to their original position, sides pressed together. “Hey Gene, how many does that make?” Babe asked quietly. 

“This one and one other,” Gene said, exhaling smoke away from Babe. He offered the cigarette to Babe, who took one long draw. 

“Really?” he asked, exhaling smoke. 

Gene pulled the pack out again and showed Babe that really, truly, only one cigarette remained. Babe smiled at Gene, and if he pressed a little closer in that dark barn on the anniversary of a terrible deed, who was to know? 

They remained silent, passing the cigarette back and forth until Gene finally ground it under the toe of his boot. He uncrossed his arms and laced his fingers together, letting them fall before him. And maybe it was because it could very well be Babe or Gene’s last night on earth, but Babe felt emboldened to turn slightly to Gene and say in as nonchalant of a voice as he could muster, “Hey Gene, when all of this” he waved a hand that encompassed the barn and all of its inhabitants “is over, do you wanna... I don’t know, get dinner, maybe? Just the two of us?” And even though Babe was an adult, and an adult who fought monsters, fucking  _ monsters _ for a living, he felt his heart pound in his chest and nearly fall out of the bottom of his stomach, which had suddenly become a black hole. 

The eternity it took Gene to turn and look at Babe was excruciating. The eternity Gene spent staring at Babe, mouth slightly ajar and eyes searching, was even more excruciating. Gene finally swallowed and asked in a lower voice, “Heffron, are you asking me on a date?” 

And Babe could only duck his head and rub the back of his neck and nod and try not to feel like the biggest idiot in the world. When he glanced back up, Gene was smiling. “Well then, yes.” Gene seemed to be fighting off a full-on grin. “I would, in fact, like that.” Then it was Gene’s turn to look embarrassed as Babe swore he saw a blush rise to Gene’s cheeks. Gene was still fighting off that stupid, adorable smile. 

Babe was fighting one off too. “Okay, then. Yeah. Good,” was all he could say. Then, something suddenly dawned on him. “Wait Gene, you called me Heffron. My name’s Babe.” 

Gene turned, looking puzzled. “Yeah, but what’s your real name.” 

“Edward.” Babe said the name with disdain. “But only the goddamn nuns call me Heffron.” 

Gene laughed then, a low, earthy laugh that made Babe weak in the knees. He silently revelled in the crinkles that formed around Gene’s eyes when he laughed like that. Babe was about to ask what was so fucking funny when suddenly a hot wind whipped through the building, stilling everyone. 

Eliza, who had been sitting with her eyes closed, jumped slightly. Her eyes were wide. 

“Look alive, boys,” Joe rasped, pushing himself up off of the hay bale where he had been sitting with Luz. “Looks like we got company.” 

Babe turned and looked at the door, which was where the hot light seemed to be coming from. There was a sudden flash of bright orange light, like a firework going off right in front of their eyes. Babe jerked to cover his eyes, and when he lowered his arm, they weren’t alone anymore. 

An older woman, maybe in her fifties, was standing in the center of a ring of fire. She was dressed in slacks, a turtleneck, jacket, and low shoes. She was wearing circular sunglasses, which showed the reflection of the flames. Her gray hair was done up in an elegant swoop, pinned to the back of her head. 

She looked completely out of place in a derelict barn in the New Jersey countryside. 

On either side of her was a hellhound. They were large, like large Rottweilers in size and appearance. They had inky black fur that appeared to be made of shadows. As he looked at them, Babe had a hard time determining the dimensions and features of the dog. It was as if someone had cut a dog-shaped hole in the fabric of the universe. The hellhounds eyes were glowing bright red. They snarled and growled and pulled against the chains the reaper had around their necks. 

“Eliza! Long time no see,” she called out in an icy voice. 

“Good to see you, Clarisse.” Eliza called. Her knuckles were white where they gripped the handle of the knife. 

Clarisse then seemed to notice the four other people in the room. “Oh, and what is this?” she asked, her fire extinguishing. She took a single step forward. Her hellhounds pulled at their chains, kicking up dirt where they struggled against their master. “You thought you could resist fate?” her thin mouth twitched from neutral to downwards. “That’s cute.” 

She dropped the chains. “Hounds, get her,” she ordered. 

Babe remembered what happened next in bits and pieces. Right afterwards, all he was able to say out loud was that there was a fight. Later, he would be able to recall more specific details. Sometimes, he would wake up in the middle of the night, chest pounding, hands shaking, unable to see anything but what had happened that night. Those nights were the nights that were, ironically, most helpful. Those violent recollections helped Babe piece together, broken memory by broken memory, what had happened that night. 

The hounds lunged. 

Eliza shouted. 

Joe  and Luz opened fire on Clarisse. 

Gene’s Grace flashed, brighter than the sun, and one of the hounds whined. 

Babe opened fire on Clarisse. She shielded herself from the bullets, hissing when one hit home. She threw her arm out, fingers locked in a claw-like shape, and all of them were blown back. 

Gene lunged for one of the hounds. There was a long drip of blood down the side of his face as he wrestled with the hound. His eyes glowed blue, and the hound was no longer. 

Joe was chanting an exorcism as fast as possible as Bill threw holy water at Clarisse. It hissed as it touched her skin. 

Babe was on his back on the floor of the barn. The packed dirt was hard beneath him. He sat up, knowing he had to help his friends, only to hear Joe scream. He looked up to see Joe being dragged by his leg by the remaining hellhound. Clarisse was locked in struggle with Bill a few yards away, screaming and writhing. 

Then, the hound jerked its massive head and Joe screamed. Luz was pinned against the wall, four feet above the ground. Gene was unconscious on the ground. Clarisse’s hand was extended towards Luz. Bill saw what was happening with Joe and he let go of Clarisse in order to run over and try to help Bill. 

Babe began the exorcism anew, firing off more salt rounds at Clarisse. Gene sat up groggily as the second hellhound launched itself at Bill, teeth digging into flesh. Bill screamed as he fell back, desperately trying to fend it off. 

Gene launched himself at the hound and clapped it, eyes burning bright. Clarisse writhed as Babe kept the chant going, a dark hole opening up beneath her. Her grip on Luz loosened and he gasped, falling down the wall. 

Gene pushed the hound off of Bill as Babe finished the exorcism and the demon sank down into the hole. 

When Babe saw the blood, he knew he was going into shock. When he saw Bill’s leg laying two feet to the left of where it should have been, he knew he was in shock because his only thought was that Bill’s leg should be two feet to the right instead of where it was. 

This is where Babe’s memory kicked into overdrive, remembering every single tiny detail from then on. 

Luz had a look of absolute horror on his face as he ran over to Joe and Bill’s side. “No, no, nononono,” was all he could utter as he knelt next to the carnage. Bill and Joe laid side by side, legs where they shouldn’t have been. Blood was everywhere, and it was deep, sickly crimson in the light of the kerosene lamps. Gene had a hand on both Joe and Bill, and his eyes were already glowing. 

“Luz, make a tourniquet, put it around Joe’s thigh now,” Luz blinked and Gene looked right at him and shouted, “Now, dammit!” That snapped Luz out of his daze and he got to ripping a piece of his shirt off, twisting it up with a stick and placing it around Joe’s thigh. 

“I’m real sorry, Joe,” he said as he twisted down hard on Joe’s leg. Joe cried out and gritted his teeth, hands clutching at the dirt beneath him. 

Gene turned to Babe. “Do the same for Bill,” his voice was commanding and Babe followed his directions with shaking hands. He needed to lift Bill’s leg up to put the tourniquet on, but there was too much blood and Bill’s leg was in pieces and the muscle and bone were exposed and it was twitching, oh my god it was  _ twitching _ , and even though Babe felt like he was going to pass out, he found a stick on the ground and pushed it through the fabric and twisted hard, per Gene’s instruction. 

“Eliza, call an ambulance now!” Gene shouted. Eliza had been in a daze, staring at the hunters as they scrambled to keep Joe and Bill alive. She pulled her phone out and dialed the number, speaking into the phone with a voice that shook. 

“Joe, how you feeling?” Gene asked, checking the tourniquets. 

“Fuckin’ peachy, doc.” Joe said through gritted teeth, staring at the space where his leg should have been. 

Babe tried to avert his eyes and Bill saw him do it. He whistled to catch Babe’s attention. Bill’s face was a wash of pain. “Hey, kid, I’m real sorry,” he said, sweat beading his forehead. 

Babe didn’t know how to reply to that. He couldn’t wrap his mind around what Bill could be sorry for. Bill was the one that had gotten his leg chewed off, he was the one that could lose the ability to ever walk again. Bill grunted, then. He said, “Babe, call… call Nixon. Tell him what happened.” Babe pulled Bill’s phone out of Bill’s jacket pocket and scrolled to Nixon’s number. His fingers were covered in blood and it made his fingers stick to the screen. Babe wiped the screen on his t-shirt, feeling panic mount in his chest. The blood wasn’t gone from the screen and Babe scrubbed harder, determined to clean the screen. Finally, it was clean enough for Babe. 

Babe dialed Nixon’s number and waited, hearing each dial tone ring out into the night air. “Pick up, pick up, pick up,” Babe muttered under his breath, rocking back on his heels. The ringing stopped and Nixon’s voice cut through, 

“You’ve reached the voicemail of Lewis Nixon. Please leave a message--” 

“Fuck!” Babe shouted, hanging up. He dialed again, before standing and pacing to relieve some of the tension and anxiety that was building under his skin. 

This time, Nixon picked up after the second ring. His voice was rough and it was obvious Nixon had just been asleep. “What.” he deadpanned. 

“They’re hurt. Bill and Joe are hurt. Real bad.” Babe was able to get out. “The hellhounds...fuck, Bill and Joe both might lose their legs.” Babe’s heart was beating fast in his chest and he felt breathless just saying it. 

Nixon suddenly sounded wide awake. He asked Babe what hospital they would be at. Babe knelt by Bill and kept the tourniquet in place. He told Nixon where they would be. After hanging up, Babe put Bill’s phone back in his pocket. 

“Eliza, when will those ambulances be here?” Gene called over his shoulder, blue light fading from his eyes. He had sweat running down his face. It glistened in the light of the kerosene lamps, slick against Gene’s face. Babe could swear he looked paler than normal. 

“Shouldn’t be more than 10 minutes,” Eliza said, coming to stand next to them. “Is it safe to move them closer to the road?” she asked. 

Gene shook his head and took his hand off of Bill in order to run the edge of his shirt across his face. “No, not yet.” 

Babe looked at him. “Gene, how is your Grace doing?” 

Gene rocked back on his heels. “Not too good. These boys will need surgery, there’s no way I can put an entire leg back on. Right now I’m just trying to stop the bleeding as much as possible and salvage as much of the leg as possible.”

Babe felt his heart fall. In his mind, Bill was infallible. He had seen so much that the supernatural world had had to offer, and he survived every ordeal so far. Bill was the epitome of get up and keep fighting, no matter what. 

Babe reached out and took Gene’s hand, trying to channel every positive emotion he had for Gene towards him. Gene breathed deeply and squeezed his hand in return. Babe’s mind kept wandering towards Bill and Joe and their missing fucking legs, and Gene eventually pulled his hand away so that he could place it back on Bill and keep trying to heal him. 

Babe pulled his head up. He could hear the sirens of ambulances approaching. Eliza ran out to direct them to where they were. Two ambulances pulled up, lights flashing and sirens blaring. EMTs hopped out of the vehicles, before coming in carrying stretchers. They tried to pull Babe and Gene and Luz away from Joe and Bill, but Babe tried to cling onto Bill. “No, no!” was all he could say. He felt like if we was separated from Bill, he might never see him again. 

“Babe, that’s enough.” Luz said, roughly dragging Babe away from Bill. He turned Babe so that Babe was facing him. “Get in the Charger, take Gene with you. Follow those ambulances. I’ll be right behind you.” His face was set with a resolve of steel that Babe thought impossible of George Luz. Luz was a jokester, a funny guy, the comedian. It felt wrong to see Luz so obviously distraught and obviously trying so hard to hold it together. 

Babe nodded numbly. There was nothing else he could do. The EMTs were hovering over Bill, hooking him up to oxygen tanks and making sure his leg was supported. Bill still cried out when they lifted him up and took him over to the ambulances, and Babe’s eyes still filled with tears. 

Luz had to look away when they lifted Joe. Joe’s leg was still partially attached, and so they took both pieces of his leg. He screamed when they touched it and lifted him onto a stretcher. Babe saw Luz’s jaw was set. 

Gene had been standing next to Babe. Suddenly, all of his weight was pressed into Babe’s side, and Babe stumbled and caught him. “I don’t… feel so good,” was all Gene could say. 

“Okay big guy,” Babe said as he wrapped Gene’s arm around his shoulders. “Let’s get you to the car.” He shouted at one of the EMTs that they would follow them to the hospital, before quite literally dragging Gene back across the dewy field and to the car. Gene was struggling to keep his eyes open, and Babe uttered a mantra of “sorry” as he tried to fold up Gene’s wings and put them in the car. He somehow managed, and even managed to buckle Gene’s seat belt. 

Babe hopped in the driver’s seat and revved the engine just as Luz hopped on his motorcycle. They watched as the ambulances turned their sirens on and sped down the road. Babe went after them, Luz staying in his rearview mirror the whole way to the hospital. Once they got to the hospital, the ambulances pulled into the ER parking lot, so Luz and Babe did as well. Luz practically threw his bike to the ground in order to run over and Joe was wheeled out of his ambulance. Babe unbuckled Gene’s seatbelt and helped him out of the car. 

They followed the two gurneys into the ER, brushing past nurses and doctors and other patients. Luz was jogging aside Joe’s gurney. Joe had his eyes open and an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth. He was clutching Luz’s hand, so hard that Babe could see how white his knuckles were. 

The doctors finally dismissed Babe and Gene and Luz. Other doctors and nurses were coming in, scrubs on, putting on gloves and masks and hair nets. Luz protested, but Joe just shook his head, and Luz deflated like a balloon. Babe gave a quick squeeze to Bill’s arm, before pulling Gene away by the elbow. They sat in a row in the corner of the waiting room, ducking their heads low and trying to ignore the dozen or so people in the room. There was a crying kid with a likely broken arm, a woman who thought she was going into labor, and other people with ailments that were invisible to Babe. 

When Babe was ten, his cat had kittens. His parents decided that they didn’t want any more kittens down the line, so they took the cat in to get spayed. The cat died while under anesthesia in the operation. Babe was crushed. He couldn’t stop thinking about how he wished he had cherished the last moments he had with his cat before she was taken into the sterile operating room. 

Sitting in an uncomfortable waiting room chair, Babe couldn’t help feeling the same way about Bill. He sat there, knee bouncing, heart pounding, wondering if the squeeze in the crowded hallway would be the last time he was able to touch Bill when he was alive. His mind flashed through all the car rides they had had, all of the late nights and the early mornings and the days on the road and the hunts and Bill singing to the radio in a bad falsetto and Bill laughing as the sun streamed through the window. Suddenly, it was all too much. Babe felt hot tears spring to his eyes and he groaned, leaning forward and locking his arms around his knees. 

Luz sat on his left and Eugene sat on his right. Both of them placed a hand on Babe’s back. Gene’s touch was soft and sent tingles down Babe’s spine. His hand hovered at the bottom of Babe’s shoulder blade. Luz’s hand pressed down on his shoulder, hard and comforting. “Hey, they’re gonna be okay,” Luz said reassuringly. 

Gene leaned his head against Babe’s shoulder, his hand brushing down lower and rubbing calming circles into his back. Babe stifled a sob in his knees. He didn’t want the other people in the waiting room to notice him. “How do you know for sure?” he asked. He couldn’t help feeling like a petulant child who could only see to the end of his nose, in terms of foresight. 

Luz’s voice was heavy, heavier than his hand. For once, the funny man was dead serious. “Hell, I don’t know, Babe.” he sighed, giving Babe’s shoulder a squeeze. “Joe and Bill...they’ve seen a lot. They’re the two toughest guys I know. If anyone can get through this, our boys can.” That reassured Babe, if even just a little bit. He pulled his head out of his knees and sniffed miserably. 

He was tired, cold, hungry, and strung out beyond his wits end. His mentor and best friend could die that night. Joe Toye could die. They would both probably lose their legs. They would be in the hospital for God knows how long, answering endless questions about the insurance they didn’t have or how two fully grown men were attacked by a large animal that left no traces in New Jersey. 

The events of the day were overwhelming to Babe. He got up, got a tissue, blew his nose, ignored the inquisitive looks of those around him, and sat back down in between Luz and Gene. Luz informed them that Joe and Bill were going into surgery as they spoke. Babe said a prayer, the first in a long time, and promptly fell asleep against Gene’s shoulder. 

 

\---

 

When Babe woke up, it was to Gene shaking his shoulder. Babe sat up and shook his head, trying to chase the sleep away. Luz was doing the same next to him. Babe looked up. The light was bright. The emergency room had emptied of everyone who was there when they arrived. Coming through the sliding doors was none other than Dick Winters and Lewis Nixon. Dick’s eyes darted over and across the room before they locked onto Babe, Gene, and Luz. He jogged over. Before Babe could say anything, he pulled all 3 of them into a hug. “Lew and I are so relieved that you three are okay,” his words and voice had the effect of calming on the three of them. Call it what you may, but Dick Winters knew how to calm people when they were distressed. No wonder Nixon liked him so much. 

Nixon approached the rest of them, squinting at the sunrise through the window. Babe realized that even though he had only slept a couple of hours, he had essentially slept the rest of the night. Nixon placed a hand on Dick’s arm. “We came as soon as we got your call,” 

He was cut off by a doctor approaching the group, holding a clipboard. The five of them all started asking questions at once: how were Joe and Bill, were they going to be okay, did they really amputate their legs, what was happening, etc. The doctor held up his hands and shushed them. He inhaled and calmly exhaled. He looked tired. His blonde hair was turning gray, and he had bags under his eyes. Babe wondered if he was one of the doctors to operate on Bill and Joe, he wondered if he had had the honor of sewing severed flesh back together. 

“Now, first of all, which one of you can fill out information about these two men and their insurance.” Babe was about to explain that he could fill out who the men were, but they didn’t have insurance, when Nixon raised his hand. The doctor handed him a clipboard. “Sir, please fill those out to the best of your knowledge.” Nixon nodded and moved off to the side. 

“Now,” the doctor began. “You’ll probably want to know about your friends.” 

“Please, doc, are they okay?” Luz pleaded. His eyes were red. Babe somehow knew that he had gotten very little sleep that night. 

The doctor nodded. “Yes, both men are okay. They made it through the operations, and they’re both stable and resting currently. We had to amputate one leg from each of them, their left legs.” Babe went from feelings of incredible relief that both of them were okay to feeling like throwing up as soon as he heard about their legs. He knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that both men would likely lose their legs. The end of Bill’s had been hanging by a string. It hadn’t looked good. All of his memories of Bill running or jumping or going up the stairs with ease flashed through his mind. Never again would Bill be able to do those things with that level of ease. 

The doctor was still talking. “We’re scanning them for anything else that would hinder their recovery, but they both seem to be okay, otherwise. Some scratches and bruises, but nothing else of worry.” He looked at them sideways, for a moment. “And, if you don’t mind me asking, how did this happen, exactly?” 

“Mountain lion,” Nixon interjected smoothly with a smile, handing the clipboard and the pen back. 

The doctor eyed Nixon suspiciously. “And you are…?” he asked. 

“An old friend,” Nixon said innocently. Babe noted how smoothly he went from lie to truth. Dick seemed to be biting back a smile. “I live near state game land in Pennsylvania, we’ve already found and handled the animal.” He felt in his pockets. He frowned. He turned to Dick. “Do you have the paperwork?” he asked. 

Dick shook his head. “I think you left it in the car,” he filled in. 

Nixon nodded, “Of course! Yeah, doc, the paperwork is in the car, I can get it if you need it.” 

The doctor shook his head, already moving away. “Not necessary. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other patients to attend to.” He started to walk away, running a hand through his gray-blonde hair. 

“Hey, doctor, wait!” Babe called. The doctor turned and raised his eyebrows inquisitively. He couldn’t have been more than 40. He looked ancient under the harsh fluorescent lights. “When will we be able to see them?” he asked. 

The doctor looked at his watch. “You can’t visit while they’re in the ICU. The earliest they’ll be moved is at 2 today. So go home, get some rest, take a shower, and come back to see them then.” He left them, then. 

Dick was laughing. “You’re a genius, Nix,” he said, pulling Nixon close and pressing a kiss to his temple.

Nixon blushed. “What can I say, I can think fast on my feet,” he chuckled, obviously a combination of embarrassed and pleased at the attention. 

Babe’s mind flashed back to the clipboard. He had questions. “Wait, Nixon, what did you put down on those clipboards? We don’t have health insurance.” 

Nixon sat down and motioned for the rest of them to sit. He pulled out his wallet and pulled out a stack of health insurance cards. He handed them to Babe, who flipped through them. They were all for the hunters in their circle. At the top, Bill and Joe’s cards. Then Donald Malarkey, Ronald Speirs, Carwood Lipton, Joseph Liebgott, the names went on and on. There were probably two dozen cards in total. “When you’re in the business,” Nixon began, leaning back in his chair, “It’s important to be protected. Mortality rate is high, injury rate is higher. Most hunters learn to heal themselves. And, more often than not, we can heal our injuries just fine without going to the hospital,” 

“Dental floss stitches cleaned with a little gin never hurt anyone,” Luz said, a spark of his usual humor seeping back in. He still looked awful, though. He had dark bags under his eyes and his skin was pale. 

Nixon nodded. “But, there are some injuries that are far beyond what we have the capability to heal, such as what happened to Bill and Joe. I keep these so that when the time comes, and not if, because pretty much everyone catches some flak at one point or another,” At that, Luz shifted in his seat, “they’ll get the finest care our medical system has to offer. I don’t want anyone suffering more than they have to.” 

Babe looked at Nixon then, in his jeans and flannel and boots. “How do you have the money for all of those medical plans? Insurance ain’t cheap.” 

Nixon exchanged a glance with Dick. “No, it isn’t. But Stanhope Nixon was a selfish man and he left me with way more than I can spend in my lifetime.” He took Dick’s hand then, as easily as he took a breath. He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “These men? My hunters? They mean the world to me. It’s a small price to pay to know that they’ll be taken care of if they get hurt too bad to just walk it off and fix it.” 

Babe nodded, suddenly feeling very tired and very sore. He pulled out his phone. It was only 6:18 am. Babe groaned. He turned to Luz. “Luz, can we go back to your place and take showers? They said we can’t see them until the afternoon.” 

Luz sighed and nodded, sliding down in his chair and running his hands over his face and through his hair. “Yeah, I guess. We could all use a couple hours of sleep, anyway.” Nixon and Dick offered to stay at the hospital and keep an eye on things. They promised to call all three of them if there was any news, no matter how small. 

Babe drove the Camaro back. Luz followed on his motorcycle. Babe felt wrong, driving the Camaro. It was fine when Bill told him to, but with Bill out of commission, it just didn’t feel right. Gene almost fell asleep in the car on the way back. Trying to heal both Bill and Joe had taken something out of him. He was quiet and reserved and very, very pale. Babe sent a smile at him and he sent a weak one back. Well, that was something. Gene had his wings curled around his body like a blanket around a child. Babe’s heart broke when he saw that. 

If being in the Camaro without Bill felt wrong, it was nothing compared to being in Joe and Luz’s apartment without Joe. Luz started to cry softly when they stepped inside. Babe blinked back hot tears. Luz took the first shower without question or opposition. Babe fixed him and Gene a snack. With all of the action they had seen, Babe hadn’t realized how hungry he was until then. Once he and Gene were done eating, and Luz was out of the shower, Babe insisted on Gene taking the next shower. Gene had had it rough, and Babe wanted to let him eat first, shower first, and sleep more. 

Babe felt himself nodding off as he sat at the table. Luckily, Gene showered fast. Babe slipped in after him and spent ten minutes just standing underneath the current of hot water, wasting, wasting, wasting it away. Finally, as the water started to turn cold, Babe turned it off and toweled himself dry and put boxers and a shirt on. He stared at the hard, unforgiving couch. No way was he sleeping on that. He went to Gene’s mattress, but it was bare. He ducked into Joe’s room, which was where Bill had been sleeping. Gene was passed out on top of the covers, only in his boxers. His wings were spread out across the entire bed. Babe felt a smile tug onto his lips. Gene didn’t look quite so wrecked when he was asleep. 

Babe had learned over the past couple of days not to take the people in his life for granted, not even for an instant. So, he carefully crawled onto the bed next to Gene and was asleep before Gene’s arm pulled him close to his chest. 

 

\---

 

Babe woke late that evening, after the sun had already gone down. Immediately, he felt guilty for sleeping for so long. Bill and Joe could have been moved from the ICU hours before and Babe wouldn’t have been any wiser. 

Luz came into the room, pulling pants on. He was talking on his cell phone, which was pressed in between his ear and his shoulder. He snapped in the air a few times to get Babe and Gene’s attention. Then he put his phone on speaker and set it on the edge of the bed. Gene woke up behind Babe. During their sleep, he had pulled Babe close to his chest and wrapped his wings around both of them. He unfolded his wings and sat up, rubbing a hand across his face. 

Nixon’s voice came from the phone’s speaker “Anyway, they’re being moved now. We still haven’t seen them yet. The nurses are getting them settled, but as soon as their settled we can see them.” 

Luz crossed his arms. “And how long will that be?” 

Nixon sighed. “Half an hour, maybe?” Babe could envision him running his hand through his dark hair as he said it. 

Luz made eye contact with Babe and held it. “Okay, thank you so much, Nixon.” 

“Anytime, Luz,” were the last words before Nixon hung up. 

“You hear that, boys?” Luz asked, pocketing his phone. “It’ll take us fifteen minutes to get there anyway, let’s go.” Babe looked at Gene, who nodded. They untangled themselves and got dressed and grabbed some food and headed back to the hospital, this time parking in the visitor lot out front. 

“Visiting hours will be over at nine,” the lady at the front desk reminded them. Babe thanked her. It was just past 7 pm, and already it was very dark outside. Nixon and Dick met them in the hallway on the third floor. They were waiting for the nurses to give the all-clear before they all swarmed Bill and Joe. They all greeted one another, before continuing to stand awkwardly in the hallway. Babe itched for a cigarette, suddenly and out of the blue. 

Finally, the nurses left the room and let them all in. They warned to be gentle and not to overwhelm Bill and Joe. Outside the room, Nixon and Dick decided that to avoid overwhelming them they should stagger the order they went in. It was decided that Luz would go in first, then Babe, then Nixon, then Dick, then Gene. Babe didn’t have a problem with that, only that him seeing Bill would be postponed. They let Luz in and Dick and Nixon wandered down the hallway to get coffee. 

Babe and Gene watched them go. Babe was content to lean against the wall and sling his arm around Gene’s shoulders. Babe asking him to get dinner seemed to have happened ages ago, not less than twenty four hours ago. Gene sighed and leaned heavily into Babe. They stood like that for a long time, letting Luz have his privacy with two of his best friends. 

Finally, the time was up. Babe pressed a kiss into the top of Gene’s head and pushed himself off of the wall. He opened the door slowly, trying to steel himself for what was beyond the door. They had put Bill and Joe into the same room at their request, and both of them lay beyond it. The first thing Babe saw when he opened the door was Luz, crying quietly into Joe’s chest. His fingers were locked in the thin fabric of Joe’s hospital gown. Joe looked the most desolate Babe had ever seen him. He was bruised and bandaged in the face. His legs were under the covers, so Babe had no idea how different his legs were. He had his eyes closed, tears slipping down his face. He had Luz pulled close and tight against him. 

Babe felt like he was intruding on a very personal moment, so he quietly slipped out of the room and closed the door behind him. Nixon and Dick were just approaching. “Everything okay?” Dick asked, seeing the expression on Babe’s face. 

Babe nodded. “Yeah, I think so. I just... wanted to give Luz some more time, is all.” Dick and Nixon exchanged a knowing look. Babe fixed himself a cup of coffee and wandered back into the room. This time, Luz was simply sitting by Joe’s bed, talking to him and wiping the tears away from his eyes. Babe sent them a quick smile before ducking around the corner to where Bill was. 

“Hey, tough guy,” Babe called out, getting a good look at Bill for the first time. He looked weak, but fairly lucid. He smiled when he saw Babe. 

“Hey, Babe,” he croaked out. 

Babe sat down awkwardly next to Bill. “So, does it hurt?” Babe asked. 

Bill shook his head, lifting the covers to peer at his leg. “Nah, the docs are giving me some strong stuff. You could give my leg a good whack and I don’t reckon I’d feel it.” 

Babe felt a slight wave of relief. “That’s good.” He felt awkward, then, and weird that Bill had lost a leg and Babe was fine. He turned to Bill somewhat suddenly. “Hey, Bill? I’m really glad you’re not dead.” 

“Fuck, me too,” Bill said, sitting up and adjusting his position on his bed. 

“No, I--” Babe struggled with his words. “Bill, you’re like my brother and if you ever died on my watch, I don’t think I would ever forgive myself.” 

Bill turned and looked straight at Babe. “Babe, one thing I wanna be real fuckin’ clear on is this: this is  _ not _ your fault in the slightest. There was nothing you or any of us could do, other than not take the job.” he looked at his hands on his sheets, hospital bracelet secure around one of his wrists. “Do I make myself clear?” he asked. 

Babe nodded, feeling his eyes swell with heat. “I’m just really glad you’re not dead,” he said, leaning forward and hugging Bill. Bill chuckled and pulled him close, giving him a few comforting pats on the back. 

Babe hung out with Bill for a while, but Bill got tired and visiting hours were almost up. Nixon and Dick and Gene came in and Bill kept up a strong face, but Babe could tell he was wearing out, and fast. They finished by Dick and Eugene doing a healing session. Dick and Gene joined hands and shared Graces, which they directed into Bill and Joe. Babe watched with wonder as Gene’s bright blue light intertwined with Dick’s pure gold light, creating a bright white light that flowed under the skin of the injured men. 

Babe stood next to Nixon, who watched the process with a smile on his face. Afterwards, the bags underneath Joe and Bill’s eyes looked a little lighter. The bruises on Joe’s face had turned from dark purple to a more yellow. It wasn’t a lot, but they had a lot of healing to do. 

The next day, Babe got to see the wounds for the first time as the nurses changed their bandages. The doctors had had to amputate both of their legs below the knee. On both of them, the skin was tender and puckered where it tapered to a rounded end, black stitches poking out from the cut. 

All of the hunters in their circle came around to say hi and give their best wishes. Fiances Harry Welsh and Kitty Grogan rolled through first. Next came a large group of hunters that had been spending some time all together in the west coast: the trio of Muck, Malarkey, and Penkala, along with one Frank Perconte and one Joe Liebgott. A balding man with a scar across his face came in and both Bill and Joe nearly cried with relief. His name was Lip, and the calming and comforting effect he had on Joe and Bill nearly rivaled Dick’s. The list ran on and on. Bill and Joe had many good friends, many hunters who wanted to come and keep them company. 

That first day started a pattern for Gene and Babe: go to Luz and Joe’s, get some sleep, have a meal when they woke up, head to the hospital, spend as much of the day as possible with Joe and Bill, get more food, head home, collapse, sleep, repeat. Gene and Dick did a healing at least once a day. It was hard, and Gene almost fainted one time. Dick and Gene took the worst of it. They were weaker than they should have been because of how much they had been using their Graces. 

Luz was worn out as well. He spent the most time at the hospital, easily. He seemed to constantly be at the chair between Bill and Joe’s beds; talking to them, sneaking good, filling food to them, or just being in the same room as them. On more than one occasion, Babe caught Luz asleep, slumped over in the chair or over across Joe’s legs. They always let him sleep. 

Seeing Bill in a weakened state was hard for Babe, as well. Babe didn’t like to admit it, but he was suffering from all of the late nights and from spending so much time in a hospital. 

Luckily, ever-resourceful Dick and Nixon had a solution. 

“We’ve been hearing a lot recently about a really active house up in Providence. All you would be doing is going in and providing some sort of resolution to these ghosts so that they can move on to whatever’s next.” Nixon explained over his and Babe’s seemingly 1000th cup of hospital coffee. The mornings weren’t kind to Nixon, and he looked tired. “It’s an easy job and it will take at most? Maybe a week.

Besides,” he leaned closer. “You and Doc Roe have been going nonstop. I know Luz won’t leave unless Joe asks him to, and maybe not even then, but I think it would greatly benefit you two to get even a couple days away from all of this.” 

Babe sighed into his coffee. “What about Bill?” he asked, feeling stubborn. 

“Well, Luz is in there pretty much 24/7. Dick and I will also still be here. We’ve got our hunters passing through every day. They’re on the up and up every day. If we get some kind of setup at my place, they may be able to come home within the week.” Nixon sipped his coffee. “Trust me, they’re in good hands.” 

“I’ll have to check to see if it’s okay with Bill, first,” Babe said, feeling petulant. But of course, Bill said yes. He even encouraged it. And so, nearly a week after the night that Babe couldn’t exactly remember but was sure he would never forget, he and Gene departed Lakehurst. Babe turned to Gene to say something about them finally getting some rest, but Gene was asleep in the passenger seat before they even reached the highway. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Q: Why make them lose their legs? This is fanfiction, you can leave out the sad parts and just focus on the happy.  
> A: I can't answer for the real Bill Guarnere and Joe Toye (but I imagine the response is similar), but them losing their legs is essential to them as characters. It would definitely be easier, but a real part of their struggle and what differentiates them from many is the fact that they were seriously wounded in combat.


	6. Interlude/A ghost in the wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *ghost adventures theme plays*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> love me some ghosts. one chapter left!!!

Wickshire Manor was a large, ramshackle building perched at the edge of a small holdout of foreboding woods. Plastered in No Trespassing signs and graffiti, it didn’t scream ghosts, it more screamed teenagers-come-here-to-vandalize, but Babe still felt a chill down his spine as he watched the breeze ruffle the bare branches of the trees in front of the manor. He and Gene had been there for the better part of an hour, going over their plan. 

“Nixon said there are three ghosts in particular that people often report. Mister Wickshire, he’s older and has a mustache, his son Elias Wickshore, who died when he was 12, and Miriam Wickshire, who was only 7.” Babe reported to Gene. 

“How did Elias and and Miriam die?” Gene asked softly, staring at the house. 

Babe flipped back through the papers Nixon had printed out for them. “Says here that Elias and Miriam were both poisoned by a maid that Mr. Wickshire raped. 

“Jesus,” Gene muttered. 

“Yeah, it’s really fucked up. It makes sense that their ghosts would still be here. Mr. Wickshire, by the way, blew his brains out after his two children died.” Babe concluded. He thought for a moment. “It makes sense that the souls of murder and suicide victims would hang around the longest. Unresolved trauma in life can cause your soul to become trapped in this plane.” 

Gene nodded slowly. “The second or third time I opened myself up to be a vessel, it was for someone who had been murdered.” Gene shivered, remembering the incident. “That energy...it was unlike anything I had ever felt.” 

Babe felt his heart go out to Gene, who willingly opened up his vessel to help those who were trapped move on to something better, something beyond Earth. Gene was selfless and perfect and deserved everything the world had to offer to him. Gene caught Babe staring. “What?” he asked. 

“Nothing, just thinking,” Babe lied, turning the key in the ignition and pulling away from the curb. They returned to the motel, where they spent a couple of hours just relaxing, watching HGTV and eating leftover Chinese takeout. After all of the loss in the past couple weeks, Babe cherished the time he could spent simply by being with Gene. 

Around eleven, Babe loaded up with iron and salt. Gene did the same. Babe brought lighters and some matches, in case they had to destroy something of the Wickshire’s. They drove in silence to the Manor. They parked at the curb, where Babe stood, leaning against the car, waiting for some courage to come to his veins. 

No courage came, but a sense of calm did. These were just restless spirits, and they just needed some help in moving on from life. He looked at Gene and nodded. Gene’s wings were puffed up against the cold, hunched around his shoulders. They put their hands in their pockets and ducked low in their coats and crossed the unmanaged lawn to the front of the Manor. 

The grand front door had once been chained and padlocked shut, but the local teenagers that came to the manor to party or scare themselves had loosened or cut enough of the chains that it was easy to pull the door open enough to slip through. 

The air inside the manor was dank and dusty. Babe coughed as he clicked his flashlight on, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the deep darkness inside. All of the windows had been boarded up to prevent trespassers and because of that, very little light from the moon or the distant streetlights penetrated the manor. Gene slipped in, silent as a shadow, and stood beside Babe. Babe shone his flashlight into the corners of the room. It illuminated old beer bottles and spray paint cans. The walls were absolutely covered with graffiti. The manor wasn’t scary, just badly taken care of. 

Babe and Gene moved from the front entryway into a large living room. All of the furniture had been taken out a long time ago. A fireplace, overflowing with trash, sat at the back wall. Old stains overlapped across the floor. It made Babe sad to think that a house that was once so stately could fall into such disrepair. 

They moved into the kitchen and Gene nearly fell over. Babe turned, startled and worried. “Gene? What is it?” he asked. 

Gene stood. His wings puffed up and expanded a little. “This room...I think this is where the children were poisoned. It has a very, very dark energy.” As if on cue, a child’s laugh drifted through the room. All the hair on Babe’s body stood on end. That wasn’t a laugh from the living. It was a laugh from someone who died a long time ago. 

“Elias? Miriam?” Gene called. His eyes started to glow soft blue. The laugh came again, this time from up the stairs. Gene glanced at Babe. They followed it, avoiding the holes in the stairs as they jogged up. A sound came from what once was a bedroom, and Babe and Gene ran into it. The second they were in, the door slammed behind them. Babe felt fear, real and visceral, crawl up from wherever it resided and root itself in Babe’s stomach. He tried to open the door to no avail. It didn’t even jiggle in the handle. 

“Babe.” Gene said, softly. Babe turned, slowly. Gene was staring at a man, a translucent man who stood at the other side of the room. His clothes looked like they were from just before the turn of the century. He had a curly mustache and inquisitive, dark eyes. Half of his head was missing, exposing bone and brain. Even as a ghost, his head dripped blood onto his shoulder, where it soaked in and left a dark stain. Babe wanted to avert his eyes, but he was afraid that if he stopped looking at Mr. Wickshire, he would disappear. 

“Mr. Wickshire,” Gene greeted, nodding with more respect than the ghost of the man deserved. Mr. Wickshire looked confused. 

“And who are you, coming into my home uninvited?” his voice was icy, and it was directed straight at Gene. Before Gene could answer, Mr. Wickshire flew straight through Gene, opening the doors and leaving them swinging wildly behind him. 

Gene turned to Babe. He looked a little shocked at having a ghost pass straight through his chest. “Well, this might be more difficult than we originally thought.” He laughed, and Babe could only laugh along. 

They walked out to the living room. Mr. Wickshire was standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed and feet planted. Before Babe could say anything, Gene brushed past him, eyes glowing and wings out. “Mr. Wickshire, it’s time for you to move on,” he said, in a calm but commanding voice. 

Suddenly, the ghost in front of them seemed to deflate. He was nothing more than a sad, scared man who had watched strangers ravage his house for over a century. He floated past Gene to look out of one of the boarded windows. His brain dripped out of the gaping hole in the side of his head. “I don’t want to face whoever is in charge of where I’m going,” Babe knew Mr. Wickshire felt responsible for the death of his children. There was no mistaking that. 

Gene said in the same voice as before, “We all have to pay for what we’ve done, sooner or later.” 

Mr. Wickshire turned and looked at Gene. “Did the Lord send you? Or did the devil send you to fetch me instead?” 

Gene seemed to be biting back a smile. “Neither.” he said softly. “I’m here to send you to where you belong.” Mr. Wickshire reached a hand out and Gene reached one out too. When their hands touched, an expression of pure euphoria and wonder crossed over Mr. Wickshire’s face. He disintegrated into silver sparkles that hung in the air for a moment before floating up and out of the boarded windows, into the night air. 

Gene looked satisfied. Suddenly, a voice behind them shouted, “Hey! What did you do to our daddy?” 

Gene and Babe turned to see a kid, nothing more than a ghostly kid, with purple lips and pale skin. Behind him, a younger girl with the same purple lips and pale skin hid behind her older brother. The kid seemed to be trying to pull a brave face. 

“Do you miss your mom?” Gene asked, kneeling down to their level. 

All of the fight seemed to go out of Elias. He was just a scared kid, whose time was long gone. He nodded, taking a step closer to Gene. Gene opened up his arms. “I helped your dad leave this place. I can help you get back to your mom, too.” 

Elias still looked skeptical, but Miriam ran forward and threw her hands around Gene’s neck. Elias finally relented, and he took one of Gene’s hands. Gene whispered something in Miriam’s ear, and her face lit up. She transformed into the same silver sparkles, before her brother followed her. Babe felt tears spring to his eyes as their souls left the building they had lived and died in. He turned to Gene and saw that Gene was similarly affected. 

Gene had a look of satisfaction and sadness and so many more emotions on his face. Babe took a step before pulling him into a close, tight hug. Gene cried for a moment into Babe’s shoulder, before laughing. Babe broke apart to see what Gene found so funny. Gene pointed and Babe could barely make out the graffiti he was pointing to. Someone had spray painted the words “F-WORD” on the wall, in lieu of the actual swear. 

And all Babe could do was laugh along with Gene at what truly was a stupid joke, because Babe was happy to be alive and happy to have people he cared about who cared about him too. He was happy he wasn’t murdered and forced to live as a ghost in his own home. Babe was happy about a lot of things. 

Babe and Gene wandered out of the house together, Babe’s arm around Gene’s shoulders. There was a lightness around them, a sense of joy at life and at the world. They approached the car, when Gene pulled out from under Babe’s arm and leaned against the car. He pulled out his pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He showed Babe that he was about to smoke his last cigarette. Babe leaned next to him and watched the soft orange glow of the flame illuminate Gene’s beautiful face. Gene exhaled smoke into the still night air and Babe thought that that was maybe the sexiest thing he had ever seen. 

Feeling bold, Babe leaned over and plucked the cigarette from between Gene’s lips. Lips that Babe, now that he thought about it, really fucking wanted to kiss. He took a drag of Gene’s cigarette, keeping Gene’s eye contact. He passed it back without breaking it. 

Gene took a final drag, eyes boring holes into Babe’s eyes. Without breaking eye contact, he threw his cigarette to the side before rushing forward and smashing his lips against Babe’s. 

Babe’s brain was doing kickflips while his heart was doing front handsprings while his stomach dropped dramatically. The kiss was hurried and desperate and hungry and Babe wanted more. His hands came up to Gene’s hair and found a place there, while Babe marveled at how soft Gene’s hair was. 

After a moment, Gene broke away, exhaling and hiding his face in the crook of Babe’s neck. “Sorry,” he murmured, lips brushing Babe’s skin in a way that made Babe’s eyes roll back and close. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time, Babe.” Babe had to go back on what he decided earlier. Yeah, the smoke was sexy, but Gene whispering sweet nothings and saying his name into his neck was a hundred times sexier. 

“Don’t fucking apologize,” Babe breathed, tilting his head to expose more of his neck. He felt like a stupid teenager again, fooling around and finding kissing necks to be incredibly exciting. 

Gene pressed closer, pushing Babe against the Charger as he worked his way up Babe’s neck. Babe tilted Gene’s head, loving the way the moonlight reflected in his eyes. He leaned very close, watching as Gene’s eyelids fluttered closed and his eyelashes fanned out across his cheeks. Babe stopped when he was mere moments away. “Can I kiss you?” he whispered, running a finger down the column of Gene’s throat.

Gene swallowed against Babe’s finger. He smiled. Without opening his eyes, he nodded. Babe pressed closer and kissed him softly, this time. He kissed him with purpose, and that purpose was to be tender and soft and loving. 

They kissed for a while, pulling and pushing and exploring the new territory between the two of them slowly and carefully. Neither of them wanted to fuck things up in the slightest. 

Finally, Gene pulled away. He took Babe’s head in his hands and kissed his forehead, then the tip of his nose. He pressed their foreheads together. “I want, and we will continue this later,” Babe felt his heart and stomach do a happy little flip at that, “But I am very hungry right now. Can we go grab dinner?” 

Babe laughed and pressed another kiss to Gene’s lips. “Of course,” he said, caressing Gene’s face with his thumb. They got into the car but Babe held Gene’s hand as he drove. It was close to two in the morning. Nowhere was open except for a McDonald’s. So, Babe pulled the Charger into the McDonald’s drive through. He and Gene ordered food, which they ate while parked at a scenic overlook. They made it back to the motel, but Babe barely had the door open before Gene kissed him senseless against the door. 

When they approached the bed, Gene paused. “Babe, wait,” he said. 

Babe stilled instantly. 

Gene was sitting on the edge of the bed. Babe sat next to him. Gene looked up at babe through his lashes. “I want to say this before...before anything really starts, but um,” he paused, and Babe’s mind flashed through all of the awful things that Gene could say. “

“I’m asexual,” Gene said. 

“Oh,” Babe breathed. Gene nodded. “So...then what are you comfortable with?” Babe asked. Gene looked up, surprised. “I know asexual means you don’t want to have sex with people, but I know some people will have sex and some are completely opposed to it,”

Gene opened his mouth, surprised. He took Babe’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “I think...eventually, maybe in a week and maybe in a few months, I would definitely be willing to have sex with you. But, for now, can we just stick to making out?” 

Babe pulled Gene in for a kiss. “Absolutely,” he said. “I’ll do anything that you’re comfortable with, and if you’re ever uncomfortable with anything, you’ll tell me, right?” 

Gene nodded. Then, he pushed Babe back on the bed and took his shirt off and kissed down his chest. And Babe was more than happy with that. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll take this opportunity to give y'all a little history about me.   
> So I started watching SPN at the end of 7th grade. I watched it all throughout 8th grade and into 9th grade. 9th grade was when season 9 (I think) was coming out, and it was just bad. Ever since season 5, the quality of SPN had gone waaayyyy downhill. Season 8 drew me back in, but season 9 continued that downward trajectory. Anyways, I stopped watching sometime at the beginning of 9th grade.  
> And then, in November of 9th grade, I watched Band of Brothers for the first time, and it changed my life. Band of Brothers immediately became my favorite show ever. Winnix redefined the OTP for me. It was a big deal, basically.   
> Then, sometime in October of 2015, after watching Band of Brothers 3(?) times, on a long road trip to the Oregon high desert, the idea occurred to me. Nixon as a researcher type hunter. Winters as an angel. A wonderful adventure. And then, alongside of that, Babe and Bill and Gene. And all of the rest of E. company, fighting monsters and being badasses.   
> This world is one I spend a lot of time in. I'm so happy I can share it with you all.   
> And don't worry, I still have plenty of stories I want to tell (in general, and in this universe). After writing so much background Luztoye, I want to write more about them, so stay tuned for that.


End file.
